A Dawnbringer in the Dark
by Bondari the Reloader
Summary: Emily Emeraude, cleric of Lathander, travels to Waterdeep to aid in the town's defense, but she soon gets wrapped up in a plot much bigger than she can imagine. A Hordes of the Underdark story.
1. Part I, Ch 1: An Inauspicious Beginning

_Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights: Hordes of the Underdark and all of the characters and settings associated with it are owned by Bioware Corp. and Atari. I am not writing this for profit; this is purely for fun._

Emily Emeraude had a headache.

This headache was probably caused by the dagger underneath her pillow, courtesy of the Yawning Portal Inn. It may not have been the finest lodging establishment in Waterdeep (and Emily certainly had the gold to afford better), but it was here that she intended to begin her next great adventure, in spite of her family's objections. And what a lot of objections there were when she announced she was leaving the small village of Conyberry yet again.

Emily rolled over in her bed and sighed. Only her oldest sister, Roxanne, had understood why she left, but then, Roxanne was the only one who had ever truly understood. The rest had merely tolerated her heroic ambitions, secretly hoping in time she would come to her senses and return home to marry and settle down to the life of a farmer's wife. That was what Roxanne had done, after all.

Emily sat up and shook her head. "No use dredging those thoughts up now", she thought. She had made her decision to come to Waterdeep and help save the city from the invasion of creatures from the Underdark, and save them she would. With a confident nod to herself, she slammed her body back down on the bed—right onto the hilt of that blasted dagger. "Oww…" she moaned. "What an auspicious beginning." She offered up a silent prayer to Lathander, her chosen deity, asking for some peaceful sleep. As is often the case with divine intervention, only half of her prayer was answered. Sleep, she received. Peace was another story.

* * *

A dark, cavernous room, the architecture of which is unlike any found above ground. A figure stands silent: female, elven, skin black as night, with a shock of white hair. In her hand, a whip, glowing with a dull red light. She surveys the chamber, clearly in control. Her eyes shine with confidence, but there is no warmth to be found in her gaze. Another dark elf, a male wizard, bows before her.

"I trust your preparations are complete," the woman states. Her tone demands an affirmative response.

"V-very nearly, dread mistress," stammers the man. "It should only be a matter of—"

"Do not test my patience, iblith," interrupts the woman. "Would you have me wait? I, the terror of all the Underdark? The Dark Queen of Shadow?"

"Of… of course not, my mistress," breathes the wizard, terrified.

"Then proceed. I wish to see this being who my agents say can stop my great rise."

"I do not believe anyone could stop you now, great Valsharess."

The Valsharess acknowledges his attempt at flattery with a smirk. "So I thought. But my agents have resources beyond the means of mortals. This one will be my undoing, so they say… if I do not act in time. So proceed, wizard," she orders. "I will wait no further."

The wizard and his cohorts begin at once. A flurry of spells is cast, and the room hums with color and energy. The outline of a spider is etched in red on the floor of the great chamber. In the spider's belly, a flash of light, and the image of a woman appears. She is human, pale skinned, average height, thin but not frail. Dark red curls fall past her shoulders, and her deep brown eyes dance in the many-colored lights. She wears a suit of plate, a mace in one hand, a tower shield in the other. A small smile crosses her freckled face.

The Valsharess stares at the image in shock. "What is this?" she screams. "A surfacer female?" She quickly turns on her companion. "Have your spells become faulty, fool?"

"N-no, mistress," the wizard rushes to say. "This is indeed the image of the one who shall defeat you."

"I will not be defeated," she states with certainty. A crack of her whip and the wizard falls to the ground, silent and still. No one else in the room reacts; they know better. She turns back to the figure of the human woman. "This image shows but a threat," she states for the benefit of all. "It shall be dealt with like the others." She extends a summoning hand to one of her followers. "You. Male. Remove this dead fool and summon my Red Sisters. Now."

"Yes, dread mistress." The dark elf casts a spell on the body, and the now levitating corpse follows him out of the chamber.

The Valsharess turns once more to the image and slowly approaches it. "And you, surfacer," she murmurs, "whoever you are and whatever threat you pose—you will not be able to hide." She is close enough to touch the woman, and her smile is as cold as ice. "The drow shall strike swiftly… and without mercy."

* * *

Emily found herself suddenly awake, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed, clutching a dagger she did not own. She was shivering in the chill night air, and sweat coursed down her body. She brushed a damp curl off of her face as she tried to focus on her surroundings, but the memory of her strange dream still rang clearly in her head. Images flashed past her eyes: a frightened wizard, a red spider, a deadly whip, a smile as cold as ice, a drow elf dressed in red. "Wait!" cried an inner alarm. "That one's real!"

Emily shook her head and looked again. Yes, there was actually a drow elf in her room, a woman dressed in red. She was crouching over the chest in which Emily kept her personal belongings. As if through a fog, Emily watched as the drow cast a spell, and instantly the chest vanished.

"Hey, stop!" she cried, or thought she cried; in her half-awake state she couldn't be sure if she was actually speaking. Regardless, the drow turned to her, dagger at the ready.

"And now," said the drow, "now you die!"

Perhaps it was the sight of the dagger in the drow's hand, or perhaps it was the sound of the word "die!", but instantly Emily's mind cleared. She jumped onto the bed and threw the dagger at the drow. It hit the drow's arm, barely scratching it. "Well, it's not like Drogan ever taught us the fine art of dagger throwing at Hilltop Academy," Emily told herself. She was pleased in spite of the lack of damage, however, because she had hit the drow's right arm, causing the assassin to drop her own dagger. While the drow bent to pick up her weapon, Emily hurriedly cast a Flame Strike spell. The roaring blaze of divine fire lasted only a moment, but after it disappeared all that was left was the remains of an armoire and a charred drow corpse.

The threat to her life gone, the mental fog—and her previous headache—returned. Emily blearily murmured a prayer of thanks to Lathander as she stumbled off of the bed, barely stopping her fall in time to prevent her head from hitting the wall. She walked past the body and knelt to pick up her dagger. As she gazed in sleepy fascination at the intricate patterns woven onto the drow's red armor, the door to her room opened. Emily felt her hand close tightly around the dagger's hilt.

A pretty young woman rushed in, a mixture of fear and concern on her face. Emily vaguely remembered her as the daughter of the innkeeper. _Now, what was her name?_ Her weary brain searched for the memory in vain. _I think it started with a T…_

"Excuse me," stammered the girl, "is… is everything—oh my word!" She finally spotted the corpse of the drow thief and covered her mouth in horror.

Emily knew she should say something to comfort her, but the words wouldn't come. There were so many questions racing through her sleep-deprived mind that she found it hard to focus on one thought. "Is the inn under attack?" she managed to get out.

"No, I… I don't think so, my Lady. I only entered your room because—"

"Tamsil!" Emily blurted out. The young woman started in shock. _Oh, dear, now I've frightened her further_, Emily thought. _How is it I can kill a trained assassin in my almost-sleep but polite conversation and social protocol continue to elude me?_

"Your name is Tamsil, right?" she said aloud. The girl nodded, and Emily attempted a smile, hoping it didn't make things worse. "Just checking!" she said with as much cheer as she could muster and attempted a laugh, which came out as a hacking cough. It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at her own ineptitude. "You were saying…?" she prompted.

"Yes, my Lady," Tamsil mumbled, her eyes fixed on a spot on the ground near the drow corpse. "I only entered your room because I heard the commotion from the hall. The drow woman… is she…?"

Emily turned and pointed, unnecessarily, at the body. "Dead? Yes, I killed the thief."

Tamsil shuddered, and her fearful eyes met Emily's own. "I don't think she was just a thief, my Lady. She probably took your equipment so you would be defenseless when the drow assassin showed up. That's been the pattern for the other attacks."

Vague reports of prominent citizens of Waterdeep being killed in their beds flickered at the edges of Emily's memory, but all she could think about was the strange circumstance that prevented her from sharing their fate. "I… think I was warned, actually," she said slowly, more to herself than to Tamsil. "Something woke me up."

Tamsil's eyes widened even farther. "Then you are a lucky woman, my Lady," she said. "Many important people have been attacked in their homes here in Waterdeep. But unlike you, they haven't survived." Her forehead crinkled in confusion. "But… how could this thief even have known that you were here? You only just arrived in the city." She waited for a response from Emily, but none was forthcoming; the cleric's thoughts were elsewhere. "I'll have to tell Father about this," she continued after a moment. "We take pride in the safety of our guests."

For some reason, this statement of pride in the face of near disaster pieced through Emily's mental fog, and she looked at the girl clearly for the first time. She stood and smiled bemusedly. "I'm sure you do, Tamsil. I'm sure you do."

Encouraged by the change in Emily's demeanor, Tamsil continued. "The thief must have used magic… that's the only way she could have gotten in here undetected. She must have used that same magic to send your equipment back to wherever she came from."

Emily looked wistfully at the place where her supply chest used to be. Some of her equipment was very rare, a few items even taken from the ancient Netherse city of Undrentide. She turned back to Tamsil, lest she get lost in her memories again.

"I think you're correct, Tamsil," she said. The girl beamed, pleased with having impressed the famous Hero of Undrentide. "Any idea where I could get some replacement gear?" Emily asked.

Tamsil frowned. "Father's gathered weapons, armor, and other equipment here at the inn to help in the defense of Waterdeep," she said after a moment. "Anyone working to save the city is welcome to any of it. Everything is stored in the armory just across the hall. Just take whatever you need."

"Thank you," Emily said. "I'll go there right away." Her eyes drifted back to the empty space on the floor.

Tamsil shyly stepped forward. "I know the equipment in the armory isn't suitable for a hero like you, Emily Emeraude, but it's the best we've got," she said quietly. The cleric gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement without lifting her eyes from the floor. "Now, please excuse me," Tamsil said, louder. "I have to go speak with my father. I'll tell him what happened here, but it would be best if you didn't mention it to the other guests. We don't want to start a panic in the inn. Father will take steps to see this doesn't happen again."

"Of course," Emily said absently. "I barely understand what happened here myself…"

Tamsil saw she had lost the cleric's attention again, so she quickly curtsied. "Goodbye, my Lady."

Emily gave her a cursory nod as Tamsil shut the door. She was fully awake now, but her situation remained as murky as ever. She wondered, like Tamsil, how the drow had known she was here, but more concerning to her was her dream. She had no doubt that the dream had been meant as a warning, but who was this warning from? She thought for a moment that it had been a blessing from Lathander, but she knew in her heart that this wasn't true. There was a slightly sinister element to the message, which would not have been present if the dream was sent from her god. Then who would have the means and desire to warn her that she was being hunted by a vicious drow queen?

Emily sat on the edge of the bed, twirling the dagger in her fingers, staring into the dead eyes of the assassin on the floor. She briefly thought of resurrecting the drow to question her, but she figured she would simply be forced to kill the thief again without getting any useful information. She sighed. There was nothing for it but to focus on the task at hand and push all thoughts of prophetic dreams of warning from her mind. Emily knew, however, that the accompanying feeling of unease would be much harder to ignore.


	2. Part I, Ch 2: Making New Friends

Part I—Chapter 2

Dawn found Emily still seated on the edge of the bed, no closer to understanding the events of the previous night than before. A huge, one-handed orc, the Yawning Portal's doorman, came shortly after Tamsil left to remove the body of the would-be assassin, but Emily had paid him little attention. Her thoughts were busy trying to reconcile the attacks in Waterdeep with the attempt on her life by this mysterious Valsharess, though she was still unsure why she had been targeted. Yes, she was Emily Emeraude, the famous Hero of Undrentide, but there were plenty of famous adventurers gathered in Waterdeep, including a few who had helped stop the plague in Neverwinter, or so she had heard. Just because a drow queen saw her in a vision… But thinking of the vision only led to questions about how she even knew about the vision and who even wanted her to know about the vision, none of which she could answer. As she watched the sun rise through the bedroom window, Emily knew the time for speculation was over.

"All right, Em," she told herself as she surveyed the room. "Let's see what we have to work with." She was wearing only a dark green shift and an oval locket made of copper, and her only weapon was the dagger that had formerly been under her pillow. As she ran the thin fabric of her skirt through her fingers, she reflected on how useless it would have been against an assassin's blade. Whoever the mysterious dream-giver was, she could at least thank him or her for waking her up before she was attacked. "I really hope there's some decent armor in the storage room because I can't very well run around Undermountain in my nightgown," she muttered.

She stood up and walked to the small nightstand beside the bed. Opening the drawer, she found three items she was fervently glad that she had not left in her supply chest. The first was a bag filled with gold coins and rogue stones, which she could hopefully use to buy herself some new equipment. She placed it on the bed and smiled in spite of herself as she pulled out a worn book. It was called _Shadows of Undrentide_, written by Deekin Scalesinger, the most famous kobold bard on the Sword Coast. Or at least, Emily assumed he was the most famous kobold bard since he was the only one she'd ever heard of. The tale chronicled the adventure that had made her famous, beginning with her recovery of four magical artifacts stolen from her teacher, the Harper Drogan, and ending with her essentially saving the surface races from domination by a crazed medusa. _Not too shabby for an origin story_, she reflected, and apparently Deekin, her companion through much of her adventure, had felt the same way.

Her first reaction upon finding a copy of the book had been relief, since she had lost track of the bard while they had been trapped in the Plane of Shadow. The very existence of the book proved that he had found his way back to the material plane alive, for which she was very grateful. As for the book itself, she found it highly entertaining, if grammatically suspect, and after her sisters got their hands on it she was constantly being asked which parts were actually true. Some of the changes Deekin made she understood, such as giving the character Emily Emeraude more wisdom and knowledge regarding both Netherese lore and adventuring in general. For example, in the book, she had tricked the Asabi slave trader Ashtara into bringing her to Undrentide, which was much more heroic than being turned into a statue by her adversary, being brought to the floating city by scavengers praising her "artistic value," and being forced to disable guardian golems to appease her reptilian master. Other changes mystified her, however, particularly Deekin's decision to give her golden hair and blue eyes. This had the frustrating effect of making her famous in name but not in person. On the one hand, she could walk through towns without being recognized (or harassed) as a hero. On the other, when she introduced herself she was often greeted with disbelief, forcing her to explain to every innkeeper, merchant, or priest she met that she was not, nor ever had been, blond. Her copy of the book was filled with similar notations and corrections that she planned to discuss with Deekin if she ever saw the bard again.

She was reluctant to set the book down, not because she was dying to reread it at that particular moment, but because abandoning the book would mean retrieving the third item in the drawer. Emily picked up the small, circular object and shivered in spite of herself. She called it the Relic of the Reaper. Not the most original name, to be sure, but then she had never claimed to be a bard herself. She had found it while she was wandering aimlessly through the Plane of Shadow, and although its power had returned her to Toril she still viewed it with unease. The realm to which it had transported her was not very inviting, and its sole inhabitant was… well, it was hard for Emily to say how she felt about the Reaper. She was indebted to the creature for saving her life, but she did not care for being in debt to one about whom she knew so little. Despite her wariness, she found herself unwilling—or was it unable?—to throw the relic away. The Reaper's realm may not have been particularly hospitable, but at least it was safe, and where she was going she felt sure that safety would be a luxury she couldn't afford to toss aside. She threw the relic—a little forcefully, perhaps—into her bag of gold and ventured across the hall into the supply room to find herself a weapon she could take a decent swing with.

* * *

Tamsil had been right about the state of the equipment the Yawning Portal had to offer. It was a very mundane and incomplete assortment of goods, but Emily reminded herself that these items had likely been donated by the local merchants so she should be grateful they were here and keep her expectations low. Still, she couldn't help grimacing distastefully as she strapped on the banded mail she found there. She always felt dangerously exposed whenever she had anything less than a solid plate of steel between her and her assailants, and as she ran her fingers over the loose links around her waist she wondered if she weren't just as protected from sneaky daggers in her nightgown. At least she had managed to find a mace and a sling, her preferred weapons. She looked at herself in the mirror in her bedroom and sighed. "This tiny wooden shield will be the first to go," she muttered, flapping her left arm like a deformed bird. She only hoped she would have an opportunity to replace it while it was still in solid enough form to be sold.

Before heading downstairs, she made the acquaintance of the two occupants of the sitting room on her floor. One was a frail, ancient-looking man who insisted that he would accompany her into Undermountain. Once Emily successfully convinced him he could do her much more good by staying behind, he told her about his previous adventures in the infamous dungeon. Most of his advice was of the "always stay vigilant" variety, but at one point he remarked, "Watch out for mirrors, lass. They almost always hide something; sometimes something good, often something very bad." Emily at first thought he might have directed this comment at her because she was a woman, but perhaps Undermountain's creator, the great wizard Halaster, designed this particular trap with the vain in mind. Luckily, she did not think she was very pretty (certainly not compared with her three sisters), so the mirrors probably wouldn't be a problem for her, at least. The other man was a half-elven monk named Cyphus who was in Waterdeep to document the events in the city on behalf of his secretive order. Emily had never been fond of monks as she found their calm demeanors difficult to read. She couldn't tell, for instance, whether this one was flirting with her or not when he suggested that he would like to write about her in his records. But then, that might be more accurately attributed to her romantic ineptitude than Cyphus's monkish nature.

When Emily was being honest with herself, as she was after the attempt on her life last night, she admitted that in these first twenty-three years of her life she had never had anything close to a successful romantic relationship. Most of them had been quite short, and their endings—for they all ended—were uncomfortable at best and hostile at worst. In fact, Emily could think of two men in particular she would be highly inclined to kill if she ever saw again. Of course, she could just let her parents choose someone from the village for her to marry and not worry about romance any more… But Emily didn't want that. She didn't really know what she wanted when it came to love and family; she only knew she hadn't found it yet. _At least_, she thought,_ I won't have to worry about men for a while_, and this thought made her laugh for the first time since she left Conyberry. _Send me some more assassins, Valsharess. As long as they don't propose, I'll be happy to see them_.

* * *

The room downstairs was filled with a bustling collection of refugees and would-be heroes, though Emily had no small difficulty telling who fit into which category. She felt fairly confident that Durnan had not recruited children to join his Undermountain contingent, but most of the adults were armed, even though a good number looked ill at ease with a blade in their hand. There was one group that definitely had an air of heroism about them, and it was to them that Emily walked.

Standing closest to her was a mischievous looking halfling, his eyes constantly darting around the room. Next to him was an imposing half-orc barbarian who carried himself with the air of nobility more commonly found in a paladin. On the halfling's other side was a young elf, her brow furrowed in concentration as she struggled in vain to remove a stain from the skirt of her midnight blue robes. Rounding out the quartet was a beautiful young bard who seemed to simultaneously demand and disdain the appreciative glances she received from the men in the room. Emily approached the elf, who was still too busy scrubbing away with a damp cloth to notice her. In the space of a moment, the halfling's eyes went first to the bag of gold at her waist, then to the mace in her hand, and finally up to her face. He nodded at her, apparently with approval, before turning back to the half-orc, who had been speaking.

"The innkeeper has refused to acknowledge the rest of us until this 'Emily Emeraude' makes an appearance," he said in a deep, surprisingly refined voice. "I, for one, did not journey so far to render aid only to be ignored."

The elf gave up on her robe with a sigh of frustration and looked the barbarian sternly in the eye, still completely oblivious to Emily's presence at her side. "There is no need to be unkind, Daelan. This woman, whoever she is, is an adventurer of worth, and as such she deserves our respect."

The half-orc, who was apparently named Daelan, snorted. "Well, Linu, as you know, we are also adventurers of worth, and as such I would think that Miss Emeraude would show us enough respect to not delay us on our noble mission."

"My apologies, Master Daelan," Emily rushed to say. (Beside her the elf, Linu, jumped back in alarm and would have collided with the waitress behind her had the beautiful bard not steadied her.) "I would have been here much sooner if I had not been unavoidably delayed."

Her smile of contrition was met with four blank stares. Linu finally cleared her throat and said, "You are welcome amongst us, of course, dear, but… who are you, again?"

Emily's smile faltered. _This isn't starting off well_, she thought. She tried to remain cheerful, but her voice grew both fainter and higher-pitched as she said, "I'm Emily Emeraude! … 'Adventurer of worth'? … The one you were just talking about?"

The human bard rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Everyone knows Emily Emeraude is blond, which you most certainly are not."

_Oh, great, not this again_. Emily laughed uncomfortably. "I completely understand your confusion, but I assure you that in spite of what you may have heard—"

"I did not _hear _anything, my good woman," the bard interrupted. Her voice was quite melodious but dripping with haughtiness. "I am Sharwyn, the famous bard of Neverwinter, and it is my job to _learn_ such tales as the one of the Hero of Undrentide inside and out, and I can assure _you_ that Emily Emeraude, Hero of Undrentide, is definitely blond."

Emily ran her hands through her decidedly not blond hair in frustration. "I know that's what the tale says—I have a copy of it myself—and if I ever track down the publisher that is the first thing I'm going to have fixed. For now, you are all just going to have to take me at my word that I am who I say I am." She spoke simply and sincerely, hoping that at least one of them would be wise enough to know the truth when they heard it.

To her surprise, the halfling spoke up first. "Oy, Sharwyn, leave her be! If the woman wants to be Emily Emeraude, let her be Emily Emeraude. She can be Lord Nasher himself for all I care, as long as she's willing to help us get that hundred thousand gold reward, aye?"

Sharwyn sighed. "I suppose you're right, Tomi," she said quickly. She eyed Emily suspiciously for one moment longer before turning back to the group as a whole. "I'm going to get one last drink before we meet Durnan. Would anyone care to join me?"

Tomi was already walking towards the bar before Sharwyn finished asking her question. As the bard followed him, Daelan turned to face Emily. "I am sorry if my previous comments offended you, Emily, but I've grown restless from being inactive for so long."

Emily was genuinely relieved that the group seemed to have accepted her. She hadn't realized it until that moment, but she had been dreading going on this adventure alone. "Restlessness is a feeling I am all too familiar with," she said with a wry smile.

Daelan eyed her soberly. "Is that what has brought you to Waterdeep, then? Restlessness?"

Emily was taken aback. "Of course not!" _Well, not completely_… "I care about what happens to Waterdeep, and I will do everything in my power to aid its people in their hour of need."

The barbarian nodded, satisfied and relieved. "Durnan is right to wait for you, then. You clearly have a valiant heart, and I am pleased to have met you." With a slight bow, he left to join his other companions at the bar.

Linu continued to regard Emily for another moment. "I hope we get the chance to adventure together, Emily. I would like to get to know you more."

"Likewise," Emily replied. "We could start with some proper introductions. You and your friends seem to know much more about me than I know about you."

"Oh!" The elf blushed slightly. "Well, my name is Linu La'neral, servant to Sehanine Moonbow. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She bobbed a slight curtsey; Emily quickly dropped her extended hand and curtsied in kind. "Since Sharwyn already introduced herself," Linu continued, "that leaves Daelan Red Tiger, of the Uthgardt tribe, and Tomi Undergallows, of roguish origins."

"An eclectic group of friends, to be sure," Emily remarked, observing them talking amongst themselves across the room.

"They are… not friends, exactly," Linu admitted as they walked towards the bar. "At first I voyaged with them out of necessity because our goals coincided even if our hearts did not. They have proven themselves to be champions of good regardless of their intentions, however, so I have remained with them."

Emily smiled as she thought of her own adventuring companions from Hilltop. "It has been my experience that champions of good can be found in the most unlikely of creatures," she said.

Linu smiled in return. "True enough, my dear. It is rare to see such wisdom in one so young."

It was now Emily's turn to blush. As a general rule, she hated talking about herself and took compliments poorly, so she tried to change the subject. "Do you know anything about what's going on in Waterdeep?"

Linu shook her head. "Not much, no. I am hoping that when Durnan begins he will be able to enlighten all of us as to what exactly is occurring. As I understand it—oh my!"

The elf had not been watching where she was going and walked straight into an already tipsy dwarf, who fell flat on his face, drenching himself in ale. Once on the ground, he did not move.

"Is he hurt?" Emily asked, alarmed. She began to move to the dwarf's side, but Linu reached him first—by falling on top of him after slipping in the fresh puddle of ale. Tomi laughed openly while the other two adventurers vainly attempted to hide their snickering.

"He's definitely still breathing," Linu said, trying to remain composed despite her rather undignified position. "In fact… I think he's sleeping!"

Emily helped Linu to her feet and stared at the dwarf in fascination. "By Lathander's breath, I think you're right! I say let him sleep, then. I'll go get someone to help clean this mess up."

Linu looked about her helplessly. "Yes, dear, that does seem like a good idea," she said rather forlornly. Emily turned and headed quickly for the common room so the poor elf couldn't see her smile.


	3. Part I, Ch 3: A Briefing and an Attack

Part I—Chapter 3

Emily found the common room quite as busy as the room she had left. Most of the people seemed to be adventuring types, judging by their shiny, clearly magical equipment. Emily felt the banality of her non-magical armor even more fiercely than she had before. She struggled to fight the irrational jealousy she was feeling, and she almost succeeded until she caught the eye of a rather dashing young man across the room. Obviously a very successful warrior, judging by his gear, he looked pointedly at her little wooden shield and snickered. She bristled, and her brown eyes narrowed at him. _Don't do it, Em. Don't throw your only shield at his stupid, perfectly proportioned face. You know you're not trained to fight without one. _She felt her shield arm fall back to her side. _Just stand tall and glare. You don't need a fancy shield to kick his ass._ _JUST GLARE_.

To Emily's immense satisfaction, the handsome warrior dropped his gaze in shock and shuffled farther away from her. She smiled, strangely proud of herself, and took a deep breath to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her rage at being deemed inferior by the arrogant prettyboy slowly dissipated. No longer distracted by the nimrod in the corner, she resumed her search for the one person who could help her. Her eyes were quickly drawn to Durnan, the innkeeper. He was a stern and solid man, rumored to have once been a great warrior, who was clearly doing his best to keep his inn intact in the face of the drow raids. He looked relieved to see her and beckoned her over to him, but Emily merely smiled and waved. She had no use for the innkeeper at the moment; she was looking for his daughter.

She finally saw Tamsil at a table near the door, talking to a woman who was presumably her mother. Tamsil smiled as Emily approached. "Glad to see you out of your room, my lady," she said. "If there is anything I may do for you, do not hesitate to ask."

"I was hoping you would say that, Tamsil, for I do have a task for you," Emily replied. The girl's face lit up at the prospect of helping the great hero, though Emily knew the task she had in mind was far from heroic. "You see, there seems to have been an accident in the other room involving an elven woman named Linu—"

"Oh, dear," sighed Tamsil. "What'd she break this time?"

Emily looked surprised. "She didn't break anything so much as trip over a drunken dwarf. You see, he was holding a flagon of ale at the time…"

Tamsil laughed. "Say no more, my lady. I'll mop it up as fast as I can."

As Tamsil was walking away, Emily called to her, "So Linu has a habit of this sort of thing, does she?"

Tamsil smiled. "That's putting it mildly, my lady." As Emily watched her leave, she thought back to the elven cleric's offer to adventure with her in Undermountain. _Well, if she hurts herself, she won't need me to heal her, at least._ She turned back to Durnan and the task at hand.

* * *

As she approached the innkeeper, he extended his hand in greeting. "I am glad that you made it at last, Emily," he said in a booming voice. "I see you have met my daughter."

"Yes, she's a very sweet girl," Emily said politely, her grasp of social graces mercifully recovered after the night's misadventures.

"You are too kind. I trust your accommodations were adequate?"

"Oh, yes, I rather like simple furnishings. They remind me of my farm back home. If it weren't for that thief, I'm sure I would have had a very pleasant evening."

Durnan's features hardened, giving Emily a glimpse of the sudden, deep anger that likely served him well in his adventuring days. "Tamsil told me what happened. I cannot apologize enough, Emily. Once I would have been able to ensure the safety of my guests, but no longer." The man was clearly so pained by this fact that Emily regretted bringing the subject up. She felt an irrational need to apologize to _him_ for some reason, but thankfully he continued on before she could. "As you know, our city has fallen on dark times. The enemies of Waterdeep must have learned you answered our call for heroes. Given your reputation, it's not surprising that they targeted you."

_"My reputation." Ugh. Curse my reputation, and curse Deekin for giving me one!_ Emily did not actually wish her kobold friend any harm, but she would gladly trade all the free drinks her reputation had got her to have her old things back. Her thoughts returned to something that had puzzled her about the previous night's encounter. "Surely if they knew who I was, these enemies meant to kill me. Why, then, would they steal my equipment first? Wouldn't it be easier for them to take it once I was dead?"

"Hold on a sec, there," came a voice from behind her. Emily turned and saw Tomi and his companions walking in from the other room. The halfling was staring at her, astonished. "A drow thief came in and stole all your equipment? Ha, ha, ha! If I'd a known ye were such an easy mark I mighta nicked your stuff meself! Ha, ha, ha!" A soft nudge from Daelan's formidable double-axe silenced his laughter.

Sharwyn looked her up and down skeptically. "I suppose that explains why you aren't dressed as a legendary hero…" The bard's voice trailed off, leaving Emily certain that the woman still was not convinced of her identity. Emily felt indignant, but she knew there was nothing she could really do to change Sharwyn's mind. After all, she didn't look like she was supposed to, she wasn't dressed like she was supposed to be, she had no one to vouch for her… could she really blame the bard for being suspicious? Emily forced herself to put the problem out of her mind.

Linu looked at her sympathetically. "I'm so sorry you had your things stolen, dear. I've misplaced some of my equipment from time to time, but I'm sure being robbed feels much worse." She looked down sheepishly. "By the way, Emily, it really wasn't necessary for you to send that girl to help me. I was getting the situation under control…" Judging from the expressions of her companions, this was quite a bit less than the truth. Emily grinned and turned back to Durnan.

"I'm guessing the drow likely figured you'd be more vulnerable without your equipment," he said. "A drow assassin would probably have shown up a few seconds later to finish you off in your sleep." He addressed the group as a whole. "Waterdeep is under attack; its people live in fear. That's why I made the call you all responded to… we're going to do something about it."

"Good," replied Emily, "because that's what I'm here for!" Her heart quickened in her chest. _This is really happening. I'm a real honest-to-goodness hero!_ Part of her still viewed herself as Drogan's inexperienced student, in spite of everything that had happened to her since her unconventional graduation. This was the first time that she felt like a true adventurer, choosing to undertake this quest instead of having it thrust upon her. The rest of the Sword Coast considered her a hero because of Undrentide, but Emily viewed that experience as simply a legendary accident. If she could save Waterdeep, she would finally prove her heroism to herself. She took a deep breath to calm down. _One way or another, things will never be the same._

"But Undermountain has existed for centuries," said Sharwyn, pulling Emily out of her inner reverie. "Why hasn't there been any trouble before?"

"That's what we need to find out," answered Durnan. "Halaster, Undermountain's creator, used his powerful magic to keep the creatures from pouring out to overrun Waterdeep. Now Halaster has suddenly decided to unleash his creatures on this city, and we need to find out why. I want to know what that mad mage is up to!" he screamed.

_Halaster? I thought the Valsharess was in charge. Oh, right. She was in my crazy dream. No one else here knows about her…_ Emily conceded it was possible that the two might have formed an alliance of some kind, so finding Halaster could lead to confronting the Valsharess. She could tell, however, that Durnan obviously had strong feelings about the wizard, and she worried that he might forget about the threat from the dark elves. She didn't want to broadcast her strange visions to the rest of the group, though, so she simply said, "But I thought most of the attackers were drow. Why do you think Halaster is even involved?"

Durnan frowned, puzzled by her question. "An alliance with the dark elves is certainly odd since Halaster has never been too fond of them." Five pairs of eyebrows went up at Durnan's apparent insight into Halaster's mind, but no words were said. The innkeeper shook his head. "But the drow are attacking through Undermountain, and that means Halaster must be involved. We can speculate how and why later. Right now I think it's best we determine your best approach once you're down there… assuming I haven't scared you all away yet."

Emily smiled. "Not a chance, Durnan."

Daelan resolutely shouldered his double-axe. "I swore an oath to defend this city. I will not leave before that duty is done."

"And I ain't leavin' 'til there's another hundred thousand gold pieces in me purse!" cried Tomi.

Sharwyn laughed. "I know these folks have a talent for finding all sorts of trouble, and I'm going to be there to record every minute, glorious and otherwise," she said, with a sidelong glance at Linu.

Linu flushed but kept her composure as she said, "I will help however I can, Durnan, above ground or below."

"It seems we're all in agreement then, Durnan," said Emily happily. She was growing more excited by the minute. "Tell us what must be done."

Durnan seemed relieved that these five had agreed to the task. "Very well. As many of you know, this inn is built around one of the entrances to Undermountain: a magical well that descends thousands of feet down into the very depths of that ever-changing labyrinth. Now, I don't intend to send anyone into Undermountain unprepared, so I'll offer you what advice and equipment—"

Tamsil, who had been sweeping near what Emily had assumed was a cellar doorway, ran up the short flight of stairs. "Father, there's a noise coming from the well room!" she cried.

Durnan listened intently for a moment, then his eyes went as wide as his daughter's. "Prepare yourselves! The inn is under attack!"

* * *

Emily grabbed Tamsil's hand and pulled her to a far corner of the room where a priestess Emily hadn't met yet was calling on her god for aid. "Stay near the healer," she told the girl. "This is the safest place for you to be." Tamsil nodded at her fearfully, and Emily hoped that her words had broken through the girl's panic.

The room was in chaos as adventurers ran to strategic positions while trying not to collide with fleeing civilians. Across the room, Emily saw Linu casting preparatory spells, reminding her that she should do the same. As she muttered a quick prayer to Lathander, her eyes were drawn to the center of the room where Sharwyn was singing an inspiring battle song. Emily thought she heard another voice join in, high pitched and slightly off-key, but with all of the commotion she couldn't be sure. She ran, mace drawn, to join Durnan and Daelan at the top of the stairs. The door to the well room suddenly burst into flames, and drow warriors began pouring into the inn.

Emily tried to help the warriors stem the tide of dark elves by blocking the stairs, but she soon had to fall back to tend to those who had fallen prey to vicious spells from the enemy casters. As she was preparing to run back to the front, the room was engulfed in a cloud of darkness. Emily grinned. _Clearly they don't have many priests of the Morninglord in the Underdark_. The Dawnbringer raised her mace to the sky and cried, "By Lathander's will, let there be light!" She was instantly surrounded by a column of golden light, and the darkness around her was dispelled.

As she regained her bearings she found herself face to face with a drow wizard, mid-incantation. Before Emily could react, the spell hit her unprotected head. _Why didn't I grab that ridiculous looking helmet?_ she asked herself as tiny images of the iron helmet with the single spike on top from the supply room danced across her dazed vision. She stared helplessly and murmured, "By the gods, it's more hideous than I remembered…" In an instant the floating helmets were gone, replaced by a drow corpse crashing into her. She stumbled backward, catching the falling body in her shock. A nimble hand pulled a bloody kukri out of the warrior's back. Emily looked up and saw Tomi looking at her with concern. He could obviously tell she was out of sorts. "Don't be raising this one any time soon, aye?" he offered helpfully before he disappeared back into the shadows from whence he had come.

Emily shook her head roughly and dropped her would-be attacker to the ground. She quickly threw a flame strike at the casters gathered by the door and surveyed the battlefield for serious injuries. Suddenly, a lute-wielding kobold streaked across her vision. "Deekin…?" she whispered in confusion. She tried to find the kobold, but he was lost to her in the chaos of the battle. _If he was ever there at all…_ Dismissing Deekin's image for the time being as an after-effect of the drow wizard's spell, she resumed her search for casualties, quickly finding a red-headed woman on the floor. She maced a drow in the back of the head and quickly rushed to Sharwyn's side. By the time she had healed the bard's bleeding shoulder, the battle was over. Well, the battle in this room was over, at least, for Durnan shouted, "To the well room, quickly!"

Sharwyn was up and running in a flash, though Emily tried to hold her back. "Come along, cleric, my shoulder's fine!" she yelled over the shoulder in question.

Emily rolled her eyes as she began her pursuit of her patient. "I know your shoulder's fine, but what about the gaping wound in your side!" Sharwyn paid her nurse no heed as she leaped over the smoldering remains of the well room door with Emily close on her heel.


	4. Part I, Ch 4: An Unorganized Foray

Part I—Chapter 4: An Unorganized Foray

Emily found herself standing at the top of some very steep stairs. Looking through the bars of the cage that encased the stairway, she saw Durnan, Daelan, Tomi, and Linu engaged in combat with a few drow warriors who hadn't yet retreated back down into Undermountain. She saw Sharwyn at the foot of the stairs, charging head first into the fray. Seeing that the other four seemed to have the situation mostly under control, Emily raced down the steps after the still-bleeding bard. Before she could heal her, however, a drow assassin materialized out of the shadows, ready to bury her dagger in the beautiful woman's back.

"Sharwyn, behind you!" Emily yelled frantically, hastily loading her sling. Sharwyn swung around, expertly striking the assassin with her two-bladed sword. She flashed Emily a grateful smile and turned back around in time to see Daelan slice the last of the drow stragglers neatly in half.

"We did it!" cried Linu happily as the six adventurers gathered near the well. Emily rushed to Sharwyn's side. The bard looked puzzled at her concern. Emily sighed in exasperation. "Do I have your permission to heal you, now?" she asked, pointing at the growing patch of blood on Sharwyn's leather armor.

Sharwyn looked down at her side and laughed in surprise. "Well, naturally, priestess, that is your job, is it not?" She arched an eyebrow wryly.

_Well, naturally, storyteller, but it is much easier to heal people when they aren't CONSTANTLY RUNNING AWAY FROM YOU! _The bard was correct, however; healing was Emily's job, so she summoned all the professionalism and poise she possessed and bit her tongue. She gestured to Sharwyn to turn so she could examine the depth of the wound while Durnan addressed the group.

"It looks like we've managed to drive them back for the moment," he said. "I'm going to go back upstairs and check on the guests. In the meantime, I need you five to stay here and guard the well until…" His words died away upon observing the shock and fear reflected in the five faces in front of him.

Emily had never before seen a creature like the one that rose from the depths of the well room. A single floating eyeball with many smaller eyeballs sticking out of if hovered before her. One of the smaller eyes met her gaze, and it started to glow with a magical energy. She could feel Sharwyn trying to pull her away, but she was transfixed by the sentient eye. She was dimly aware of Durnan falling to the ground next to her before the magical blast hit her and she knew no more.

* * *

Emily's eyes opened slowly and unwillingly. She was staring at the ceiling, as far as she could tell, though a dancing eyeball was flitting faintly in the corners of her vision. Add that to the helmets and kobolds from earlier and she was having a banner day for seeing things that weren't really there.

She forced herself to sit up, though her back screamed in protest. Next to her, Durnan was wiping the dust off his clothing brusquely while the beautiful blond priestess Emily had seen in the common room ran her delicate hands along his back. Neither one had noticed that Emily was awake.

"Blast those four fools!" shouted Durnan in frustration. "What were they thinking?"

"There, there, Durnan," murmured the woman, in a tone far more sultry than the average healer's comforting words. "They seemed like capable sorts. I'm sure they'll be just fine." Emily found it difficult not to laugh at the way the woman elongated each syllable for maximum seductive effect. Ironically, Durnan seemed to be paying as little attention to the priestess's obvious advances as the priestess was paying to his rantings about the missing adventurers.

"Rushing headlong into the well like a bunch of impatient children," he grumbled. He looked in Emily's direction and shouted, "Don't they realize how dangerous Undermountain is?" Emily shrugged and fought back a smile as Durnan slowly realized that he had directed his question to an actual person. He cleared his throat, clearly trying to cover his surprise. "Ah, well, good to see you're awake, Emily. Thesta!" he commanded the priestess. "Check and see that Emily Emeraude isn't hurt!"

The woman, Thesta apparently, frowned at Emily and raised her nose ever so slightly in contempt. She made no move to leave the innkeeper's side. Emily smiled at her serenely. "That's quite alright, Durnan, I am a cleric after all. I can tend to my own wounds. Thank you for your gracious offer, though, my lady." She inclined her head slightly, and Thesta grudgingly responded in kind. "Do either of you know what that thing was that attacked us?" Emily asked as she quickly checked herself for any broken bones.

Durnan responded by grunting and spitting over the side of the chasm where the creature had first emerged. Emily stared at him blankly until Thesta finally said, "It's called a beholder, or eye tyrant if you prefer." Emily immediately noticed the woman's more business-like tone now that she was forced to address someone other than Durnan. "One can unleash more magic out of each of its eyes than any wizard can ever dream up."

"And those fools have chased after it into Undermountain!" Durnan blurted out, facing the women once more. "I wanted an organized foray into Undermounatin, not this mess!"

Thesta's hand flew to his hair in an instant. "Not so loud, Durnan," she practically cooed. "You must have hit your head pretty badly when you fell. Best not to aggravate it any further. Besides, Emily Emeraude will find those silly adventurers in no time at all. Won't you, Emily?" she asked the cleric as an afterthought.

While that had been Emily's intention all along, a part of her resented that she had been volunteered, yet again. _So much for making my own choices this time…_ "Of course I will. I'll need some more supplies if I'm to go down there by myself, however. Any idea where I can get some?"

"Hmm," Durnan considered, completely oblivious to Thesta running her long fingers through his brown hair. "Most of the stores in the district are closed, seeing as there's very little traffic coming through with the curfew." The innkeeper was able to tell her the locations of a couple stores that might still be open and to tell the doorman Grayban that he said she could leave the inn. He then turned to Thesta, who quickly dropped her hand from his head and smiled at him. Emily swore she saw the priestess's eyelashes give the tiniest flutter. "Thesta, do you have anything Emily might be able to use?"

"Durnan, I have just the thing!" Thesta cried happily. "It's upstairs, at the moment, but don't move. I'll be right back!" Emily noticed she walked away slowly to accentuate her swaying hips. When the priestess looked back, however, Durnan was absorbed in inspecting the lever that raised and lowered the well. Seeing the disappointment on her face, Emily smiled wide and waved exuberantly at the woman. Thesta rolled her eyes and stalked off.

Emily chuckled softly as she approached Durnan. "Anything else I should be looking for while I'm down in the dungeon?" she asked.

"Halaster, of course," Durnan replied. "He's the key to Undermountain, always has been and always will be. Until you find the mad mage we won't really know what we're up against."

"Just how mad is Halaster, really?" Emily asked cautiously.

For the first time since the beholder attack, Durnan smiled. "As mad as they come, I'm afraid. If you do find him, be very, very careful. The mind of a madman and the power of an archmage are a dangerous combination."

Emily rocked on the balls of her feet to hide her sudden nervousness. "Good to know," she said softly. "Good to know."

* * *

After a few moments, Emily began to feel restless. Thesta still had not returned, and Emily had quickly learned that for all of Durnan's skills in battle he was a less-than-stellar conversationalist. The man seemed incapable of talking about anything but Halaster, yet he spoke in such a vague way that what he told her wasn't particularly useful. Emily planned her escape on the pretext of getting a drink from the bar, but before she reached the stairs she saw something that stopped her in her tracks.

Standing at the foot of the stairs was a small kobold, so intent on writing in his small tome that he was unaware of the cleric standing in front of him. Emily smiled broadly as she ran and picked up her former companion in a big hug.

"Deekin!" she cried. "I haven't seen you in ages, little buddy!" She set him gently back on the ground, his eyes wide from the shock of her greeting. Recognition slowly dawned on his face, and he returned her smile.

"Boss-Lady Emily Emeraude! You comes to big human city! Somehow Deekin just knew you would come!"

"You know, Deekin, I thought I heard the Doom Song during our battle earlier, but I just chalked it up to that spell the drow wizard hit me with." She absently crouched down so she was eye-level with the kobold. "I've been so worried about you since we got separated on the Plane of Shadow."

Deekin looked at her in surprise. "Boss really worried about little Deekin?" he asked slowly.

Emily thought she saw tears in the bard's eyes, and she suddenly felt embarrassed for being so emotional. She dropped her eyes to the ground and hoped to Lathander she wasn't blushing. "Well, yeah, Deekin, I was really worried," she mumbled. "I felt kind of responsible for you, dragging you through the ruins of Undrentide and all." She sensed Deekin was beginning to make the kobold equivalent of an "aww!" sound, so she cleared her throat sharply and looked up. "I knew you were okay, of course, when I found a copy of that book you wrote," she said matter-of-factly.

Deekin jumped for joy. "Ooo! You gets book? Deekin so very pleased! Did you reads it, Boss? Did you likes it?"

_Oh, brother, how am I going to answer this?_ Emily decided to start with overall praise and then address her specific criticisms later. "I greatly enjoyed it, Deekin," she said, which was definitely true. "It was much better than this book I read about the plague in Neverwinter."

"Deekin read that! It not gots kobolds, though, so Deekin think it very boring. Dumb elven lady no substitute for good kobold."

Emily sighed. She knew the "dumb elven lady" Deekin was referring to, or rather she knew of her. Aribeth de Tylmarande, paladin of Tyr and leading figure in the city of Neverwinter until she betrayed the city to the dark powers that were trying to destroy it. Emily had seen her a few times when she accompanied her father to Neverwinter to sell their crops from the harvest. She had watched the paladin organizing a charity mission to the Beggar's Nest, a commanding presence in her plate mail but always with a warm, welcoming smile for everyone she met. Emily had admired her greatly as a child, and she had been beyond shocked to return home from Hilltop to find her hero dead and branded a traitor. She had read and listened to all she could about Aribeth's fall, but all that she learned only served to make her feel… well, uncomfortable was the only way she could really describe her feelings. Now, hearing Deekin call her dumb, Emily found herself inexplicably defensive. "Aribeth wasn't dumb Deekin, she was just… in love, and, well… people in love do dumb things sometimes…"she finished lamely.

Deekin looked at her strangely. "Is Boss in love right now?" he asked. "Because Deekin think that a dumb thing for Boss to say, and Boss not usually say dumb things."

Emily snapped out of her reverie and stood up with her arms crossed. "No, I am not in love, Deekin, and even if I were I certainly wouldn't tell you!" she snapped. "Who knows what you would write about it? With your habit of changing the facts, I'd probably end up married to a goat."

"Deekin doesn't change facts, Boss. Deekin embellishes. Deekin exaggerates. That what makes Deekin great bard!"

Emily rolled her eyes. In the five years since she'd last seen Deekin, she'd conveniently forgotten just how exasperating the little kobold could be. She attempted to frown at him, but she couldn't quite manage it. Deekin smiled at her mischievously. "Good news be that Deekin work on new book, now. See?" He handed the book he had been writing in up to her. As she flipped through the pages, Deekin said, "Deekin think call for heroes make great plot for second epic story! Deekin not gots title for it yet, however—"

"Hey!" cried Emily. "Why am I in here? You didn't even see me until today!"

Deekin shuffled his feet nervously. "Oh, that… Well, you see, Boss, Deekin be new to great big human publishing world, and Deekin thought that it would be better for building reputation as great kobold bard if second epic story feature same protagonist as first epic story. Publisher say there be greater chance for profit if Deekin write a series, so…"

"So you were going to put me in your book without even asking for my permission?"

"Well, Boss, it not like Deekin know how to contact you…" Deekin glanced up to face Emily's withering glare and continued rapidly, "But now that Boss is really here, second epic story be even better!"

Emily shoved the book back at Deekin and shook her head. "Fine, you can put me in your book, but I want some things in return. You have to let me read it before you send it to your publisher, and I reserve the right to correct any 'embellishments' I deem to be excessive, starting with my hair color!"

"You wants Deekin to change hair color? But Deekin like Boss so much better as a blonde!"

Emily's hand was in a fist before she realized Deekin was laughing. She gazed at the marks her fingernails had left in her palm. _Lathander help me, I'm going to kill him before the day is done._ Fortunately for Deekin, Thesta chose that moment to return to the basement.

"Durnan?" she called from the top of the stairs. "I have the gift you asked me to bring."

Durnan, who was staring out into the chasm again, seemed not to hear her. Thesta, disappointed, appeared to be on the verge of calling out again when Emily loudly whispered, "Shh! I think he's meditating."

Thesta looked at the cleric with contempt. Emily smiled serenely as she walked up the stairs, Deekin trailing behind, quill in hand. "The poor man has been through a lot, as you know," she said sweetly. "And since that gift is for me, and I'm right here, there really doesn't seem to be any need to bother him, does there?"

Thesta forced her face into a calm smile, though Emily could see the fury in the priestess's eyes. "Yes, of course," Thesta replied briskly. "Let's get right to business: I have a Rod of Resurrection for you—an item of such power it can actually raise the dead." She held the rod out to Emily. "Based on all the rumors about Undermountain, you're going to need it."

Emily took the rod and looked at Thesta in confusion. "Umm, Thesta, you know I'm a cleric, right? I don't need a rod to resurrect people; I can do that on my own."

Thesta's eyes blazed. "Well, you can just shove it up your—" Emily and Deekin's eyes went wide. Thesta turned away for a moment. When she turned back to them, her face was completely calm. "Perhaps, then," she said softly, "you should give it to your little kobold friend. After all, no cleric, no matter how powerful, can raise herself from the dead." She attempted a smile, but Emily thought the expression was more like a wild animal baring its teeth.

Deekin snatched the rod out of Emily's hands. "Deekin think that be good idea!" said the kobold, his voice even higher pitched than usual. "Well, Deekin and Boss be going now. Have to start epic adventure before everybody dies!"

Emily followed Deekin up the stairs back to the common room, with a backward glance at Thesta. The priestess's fake smile made her gulp in spite of herself. Emily turned away quickly and hurried up the stairs.


	5. Part I, Ch 5: Deekin Meets a Ghost

Part I—Chapter 5: Deekin Meets a Ghost

"What is that thing you playing catch with, Boss?"

Deekin was sitting on the floor of Emily's room at the Yawning Portal. The two of them had just returned from an adventure into town to buy supplies. In most of the stories Deekin had read, the shopping and restocking part of the tale was skipped over, for it was usually boring and uneventful. With Waterdeep under siege, however, Emily and Deekin had to fight their fair share of duergar and drow just to cross the street. After getting what they needed, the two had returned to Emily's room to rest for the night before venturing into Undermountain to rescue their friends.

Deekin had spent the evening recording their latest exploits in his book, though he was finding the writing process much more difficult now that he had relinquished some of his creative control to his boss. The bard was particularly hurt when Emily had forced him to cut a particularly riveting passage about defeating a dragon guarding the entrance to the blacksmith, but the cleric felt that was embellishing a little too much. Deekin was rather proud of it, however, so he ripped the pages out and tucked them away, sure that he could use them later on. He had been about to ask Emily whether she felt that a guardian chimera would be more realistic instead when he noticed what she was doing.

Emily was lying on her back with her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. She had been tossing the Relic of the Reaper up and down, allowing the repetitive motion to completely occupy her thoughts. The sound of Deekin's voice brought her back to reality. She sat up and looked at the object in her hand, unsure of how to answer the kobold's question. "Umm… this is the Relic of the Reaper."

"That not really an answer, Boss," said Deekin. Emily laughed to herself, remembering how many times she had directed that same complaint that the Reaper himself… itself? She really wasn't sure.

"Well, Deekin, it's kind of hard to explain. How about I just show you?" Emily reasoned that it would be good for Deekin's first experience with the Reaper to be planned instead of being dragged there on the brink of death like she had been.

"Okay, Boss!" said Deekin happily. "Deekin ready when you are!"

Emily smiled down at the little kobold. "I'm glad you're back, Deekin," she said as she extended her hand. Deekin placed his scaly fingers in hers, and in a flash of red light they were gone.

* * *

Cold. That was always the first thing Emily became aware of when entering the Reaper's Realm. The piercing cold that penetrated her very bones. She pulled her newly purchased cloak tightly around herself.

While the cold was familiar, the chattering noise she could hear below her was not. Emily looked down to see Deekin trembling, his sharp kobold teeth rapidly clicking. He attempted a smile, but she could see the bard was suffering. She took a deep breath to brace herself, took off her cloak, and wrapped around the little kobold's shoulders. Deekin clutched the cloak tightly and muttered, "That not be necessary, Boss."

Emily patted his scaly head. "It's alright, Deekin. I'll survive. I'm the warm-blooded one, after all." She took his hand as they approached the hooded figure standing (at least, Emily assumed it had feet) on the raised platform in the middle of the chamber. It bowed as they approached. Emily heard Deekin's sharp intake of breath seeing the flames flickering in the creature's reflective, featureless face, a face that had become so familiar to her. She squeezed his fingers gently and nodded at the creature. "It is good to see you again, Reaper," she said.

The Reaper nodded in acknowledgement. "How may I serve you, Sojourner?" he asked.

"I don't need anything in particular today," Emily said with a forced cheerfulness. "I just wanted to introduce you to my friend, Deekin. He's going to be traveling with me for a while, and I thought it would be good for the two of you to meet. Say hello, Deekin."

Deekin said nothing.

The Reaper did not seem to be offended by Deekin's lack of greeting. "This is the companion you spoke of when you first came here, Sojourner?" he asked. "The one you wished me to locate for you?"

Emily was surprised the Reaper remembered her first, frantic demands upon arriving here. She felt ashamed of her fear now, and she had hoped the creature had forgotten it. She liked to think she wasn't quite as panicky as she was five years ago. She managed a nod in response to the creature's question.

The Reaper's tone seemed to soften somewhat. "Now you understand why I was unable to do so. The kobold is clearly alive, and as such he is not in my power to summon here."

Emily felt Deekin shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Yes, Big Ghost, Deekin be very much alive!" he squeaked.

"Deekin, the Reaper isn't going to hurt you," said Emily. Deekin looked unconvinced. Emily sighed and looked at the Reaper beseechingly. "Perhaps if you told him a little bit about yourself, he wouldn't be so afraid?" She asked this as much for herself as for Deekin, hoping that the Reaper would reveal more about himself to Deekin that he had done yet to her.

The Reaper sensed her hidden motive, however, and he shook his head at her. "You have asked me this many times, Sojourner, and yet I give you the only answer I can: I am the Reaper, the Gatherer of Dust, the Gatekeeper… and this is my realm."

"That not make Deekin feel better, Boss," Deekin said.

Emily forced herself not to roll her eyes at the bard. She decided to try a different question. "Maybe you could tell us how you came to be here, Reaper, and why?"

"I have always been here," the Reaper replied. "As this nexus realm was created, so was I created with it. We are the same, one an extension of the other."

"Who created this realm, then?"

"I could give you the answer to your question, Sojourner, but it would mean nothing to you."

"It might mean something to Deekin, though," Emily pressed, unwilling to let the conversation end. "He's a famous kobold bard."

Deekin brightened slightly at this remark, but the Reaper again shook his head. "I am afraid it would also mean nothing to him. Those who created us are passed out of knowing. Bards have long since given up singing their tales."

Emily was determined not to let the Reaper evade her as easily as he had in the past. "What about the relic?" she asked, pulling it from her bag. "What is it?"

The Reaper appeared to ponder the relic, or perhaps he was just pondering what he was going to have for dinner. _Does he eat? _Emily thought. Before she could ask, the Reaper looked directly at her and said, "I am bound to it, Sojourner, as it is bound to you."

"That's not an answer," she said, with more of an edge to her voice than the many previous times she'd made the same statement.

The Reaper bowed low. "It is, however, the only answer that I can give." He sounded almost apologetic, almost as though he had a different answer that he was unable, or unwilling, to say.

Emily felt her years of frustration boil to the surface. "You're keeping something from me, aren't you?" she demanded.

The Reaper turned away from her, something he had never done before. In all the times she had been here, he was constantly watching her, while she ate, healed her wounds, read, and, presumably, slept. He was clearly uncomfortable, and for some reason this made Emily afraid. His non-answer did nothing to calm her fears. "The relic is what it is, just as you are. Better to ask who created you, Sojourner."

_Well, I'm definitely not asking him if he eats_, she thought petulantly. Deekin looked at her with concern, obviously realizing she had suddenly grown agitated. She looked around wildly, hoping for something to inspire a harmless question to ease the tension, when her eyes landed on something she had always been curious about. She wasn't expecting the Reaper to tell her what it was, but at least she could break the silence. "That door at the far end of the room, the one covered in mist—"

The Reaper whirled back around sharply to face her. "That is not for you, Sojourner," he ordered. "Seek it not, for it is not yet your time to pass through it."

Emily was even more unnerved than before by the Reaper's sudden change in mood. She wasn't entirely sure that he even had moods prior to today, but in the space of a few moments she had sensed comfort, guilt, fear, and possibly anger. She really didn't want to make him angry, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them: "Why not?"

The Reaper made a noise that could almost be called a sigh, thankfully more weary of her questions than angered by them. "As I have already spoken, it is not yet your time. I can say no more. Now, although you are always welcome here, Sojourner, I have often warned you not to linger…"

Emily stared at the Reaper in shock, unable to understand what exactly was happening, how exactly their conversation had grown so uncomfortable, why she felt so hurt by his evasive behavior. She felt him staring back at her, and she wondered what his expression would be if he had features to express.

She was startled out of her reverie by Deekin tugging insistently at her hand. "Let's be going, Boss! Deekin not want to linger!" He waved his free hand at the Reaper. "Bye, Big Ghost!"

The Reaper bowed, instantly reverting once more to the humble servant. "Farewell, kobold. Farewell, Sojourner. Should you have need of me, here I shall remain."

Emily looked at the creature a moment longer, then quickly and firmly led Deekin to the shaft of red light that would return them to the inn.

* * *

Upon their return to the bedroom, each of them had resumed their previous positions. Deekin had raced to where he had left his book and began writing feverishly, while Emily had lain back down on her bed. The only difference was the cleric no longer tossed the relic up and down; the first thing she had done when they arrived was stuff the item forcefully to the bottom of her pack. Now she just stared up at the ceiling, fixated on a crack in the wooden boards that seemed to grow larger the longer she stared.

"Umm, Boss?"

"Yes, Deekin?" she replied absently.

"What you calls place where Big Ghost is?"

"The Reaper has always referred to it as his realm, nothing else." Emily's voice was flat, completely devoid of emotion.

"Okay, Boss. Deekin just asks because he wants to keep his terminology consistent. Keeps the editor off Deekin's bad back." He paused, hoping to hear the cleric's familiar chuckle, but there was none forthcoming. Deekin had never seen Emily close herself off like this before. Kobolds were usually very straightforward with their emotions, so Deekin found himself unequipped to draw his light-hearted friend out from wherever she had gone. At least she was still answering his questions, though, so he asked another. "And you finds rock in Shadow Plane? And rock brings you here?"

"That's right," Emily said faintly. As long as she didn't blink, the crack kept getting bigger and bigger. If Deekin had asked her why this crack was now the most fascinating thing in the world to her, she couldn't have explained it. But Deekin asked a different question, one she didn't want to hear.

"Does Boss trust Big Ghost?"

Emily blinked. The crack returned to its actual size, the trick her eyes were playing on her dispelled. She could no longer use it to distract herself from answering the question she had been asking herself since her feet hit the wooden floor.

She sat up, tapping her toes on the floor as she looked at her pack sitting against the wall. After a few moments, she looked at Deekin, a strange expression on her face. "The Reaper does more than just send me places and provide a safe place to rest, Deekin. If—well, when I die, I am transported to his realm. That's one of the reasons I wanted to take you there today, so you wouldn't be worried if my body suddenly disappeared… The Reaper gives me the choice of returning to where I died or going somewhere else. Either way, I return to the world alive and well." She looked down at her feet for a moment, and then slowly lifted her head again. "I guess you could say I trust him with my life, but… it's not as though I have a choice. And I'm not entirely sure I want to. Not anymore…"

For once, Deekin had no reply. Emily forced herself to yawn to break the silence. "I'm going to go to sleep, Deekin. Good night." She curled up on the bed. The hilt of her dagger was once again poking uncomfortably into her head, but she was too busy trying to make that crack on the ceiling grow again to notice. Nothing else—not daggers nor dungeons nor mysterious beings intent on keeping her alive for purposes unknown—nothing else was allowed to matter.

"Good night, Boss," Deekin murmured to Emily's feet. He was still wearing her cloak, and he pulled it tightly around himself as he watched her sleep. He was worried, for he had finally been able to put a name to the expression on her face. He had seen it before in the faces of the members of his former kobold clan, who returned from a raid empty-handed, knowing they would be punished but also knowing that it was better to face the wrath of the clan than attempt to survive the harsh wilderness alone. He had never thought he would see it in the face of one as strong and brave as his boss, but there was no mistaking it. Helplessness.


	6. Part I, Ch 6: Of Ropes and Goblins

Part I—Chapter 6: Of Ropes and Goblins

Emily woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. She had spent much of the night worrying about death and the Reaper, but once she had finally gotten to sleep she had slept soundly and peacefully. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Lathander and stretched her arms as she sat up.

She saw her cloak lying in a ball at the foot of her bed. She was about to reach down and pick it up when she saw Deekin's head sticking out of it. She wondered why he was wearing her cloak. Then she remembered she had given it to him in the Realm of the Reaper. She remembered how irritated she had been while they were there and how distant she was once they had returned to the inn. She felt a stab of guilt for worrying her friend so and resolved that she would keep a better hold on her emotions going forward. _I'll just have to be extra cheerful today_, she thought. She glanced in the mirror to make sure she was smiling, and then tapped Deekin lightly on the head. "Deekin? Deekin, wake up!"

Deekin jumped as though his feet had been set on fire. He fumbled for his little dagger and sang at the top of his lungs, "DOOM-DOOM-DOOM DOOM! DOOM-DOOM-DOOM DOOM!"

"Deekin, shh!" Emily cried, leaning over to clamp her hands over the kobold's mouth. "You're going to wake up the other guests!"

Deekin slowly stopped hopping and looked at the cleric leaning over him. He tried to say something, but his voice was muffled by Emily's hands. "I'll let go if you promise not to sing, scream, or squeal," she said. Deekin nodded, and Emily dropped her hands. Deekin looked around the room and asked, "Where be the danger, Boss?"

"There's no danger, Deekin. I was just waking you up, that's all."  
"Oh. Deekin must have been having nightmares, maybe. Deekin thinks he see ghosts chasing him through dark dungeon. Big ghosts… Did Boss dreams about big ghosts, too?"

Emily felt her smile wavering. She looked back at her reflection in the mirror and forced the corners of her mouth to turn back up. "Maybe, Deekin, I don't really remember," she said quickly. "I did want to talk to you about what happened last night, though." Deekin put his dagger away and looked at her expectantly. She continued, "I know things got a little strange while we were talking to the Reaper, and I know you don't exactly like him, and I don't exactly like him either, but I can't just throw the relic away, so we're kind of stuck with him."

"Why can't you throw rock away, Boss?"

"I… I'm not sure, Deekin," Emily stammered. "I just… can't. Anyway, it doesn't matter because I've figured out a way we can avoid going back there."

"How, Boss?"

"By not dying!" Emily said triumphantly.

Deekin was not impressed.

Emily sighed in frustration. "Okay, fine, so maybe it's not a long-term solution, but it's the best one I've got right now."

"Deekin understands, Boss hasn't had much time for thinking. But… what happens if Boss does die?"

"Well… I like that you're thinking about a back-up plan…" Emily was stalling, her brain working rapidly. "Umm… okay, if I die, you run over to my body right away and use that rod that Thesta gave you to resurrect me. If you get there quickly enough, maybe the Reaper won't have time to summon me!" Emily was smiling so wide her cheeks were starting to hurt. _Everything's alright, Deekin, everything's alright_, she thought at him. _Just say, "Okay, Boss!"_

"Okay, Boss!" Deekin said. "Deekin can do that!"

_Yes!_, Emily mentally cheered. _Back to normal._ "Thanks, Deekin," she said aloud. "I really appreciate it. Now, let's go save some adventurers!"

"Huzzah!" cried Deekin, and the two of them marched confidently out of the room.

A quick scan of the well room told Emily that Durnan was not there has he had said

* * *

he would be. The only person in the room was one she had hoped to avoid: Thesta. Thesta looked up at the sound of the door opening and cried, "Durnan—oh. It's you."

In that moment, Emily realized why she felt so antagonistic towards Thesta. The priestess reminded her too much of her older sister, Gemma. Her arrogant charm, her dangerous, predatory beauty, her total disregard for anyone she deemed beneath her. They even had the same pale blonde hair. The times when Emily had walked into her sister's bedroom and gotten an, "Oh. It's you," for a greeting were too numerous to count. Emily didn't hate her sister, exactly, (although the reverse was probably true) but she certainly went out of her way to be difficult with her, much as she was doing with Thesta right now. She crossed her arms and glared down at the priestess. "Same to you," she said tersely. "Where's Durnan?"

Thesta turned to her pack of healing supplies that she had evidently been sorting through before Emily and Deekin arrived. "Upstairs, somewhere," she said indifferently. "Something about his daughter. Such a needy little thing, she is. Durnan asked me to watch the well until he returned."

"I see," said Emily. "I must have missed him on my way down. Goodbye, then."

"Wait!" Thesta cried as Emily turned to go. "What do you want with him? I mean, he is still recovering from his injuries, you shouldn't bother him more than you have to."

Emily was fairly certain that Thesta was much less concerned with Durnan's well-being than she was with someone taking more of his time away from her. The cleric badly wanted to drag out her answer as long as she could, but the thought of her four friends wandering aimlessly in a mad wizard's dungeon forced her to be brief. "I need him to lower Deekin and me down into Undermountain in the well. Don't worry, it shouldn't take him long. Not with those strong arms he has…" Emily smirked; she couldn't resist.

Thesta's eyes flashed briefly, but a smile slowly crept across her face. "There's no need to fetch him, my dear," she said in a tone far sweeter than Emily had heard her use for anyone but the innkeeper. "I can lower you both down. Just because I'm not quite as muscular as the rest of you adventurers does not mean I'm a frail, helpless woman."

"I never said you were frail and helpless—" Emily rushed to say, but Thesta raised a hand to stop her.

"Please, Emily. I insist."

Emily gulped. There was one important difference between Thesta and her sister: Gemma was family. Through all their many fights, Emily had always been confident in the knowledge that her sister never meant her any actual harm (Well, at least until recently, but Emily had no desire to revisit their last, most painful confrontation.). With Thesta, Emily didn't have that same safety net. She looked down at Deekin to try to gauge his reaction to the conversation, but the kobold was already at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come on, Boss!" Deekin cried happily. "Deekin be ready for adventure!"

Emily took a deep breath and started down the stairs. _I'm probably just being paranoid_, she thought, trying to calm her nerves. One look at Thesta's fake smile, though, and her heart resumed its racing. "Thank you for your help, Thesta," she said, trying to keep her voice as even and diplomatic as she could. "I know we both want to see this threat to Waterdeep ended as quickly and painlessly as possible." Emily hoped that reminding Thesta of their shared mission would stop the priestess from doing anything too drastic. She had no idea if her words had any effect, however, as Thesta's expression remained unchanged.

"Hurry, Boss!" came Deekin's voice from inside the large water bucket. "We has lives to save, maybe!"

Emily kept her eyes on Thesta's face for another moment, but the priestess's predatory smile did not waver. "After you, mighty hero," she said. Emily steeled her nerves and stepped into the water bucket, praying that she reached the bottom of the chasm safely.

* * *

After what seemed to Emily to be an excruciatingly long time, made to seem even longer by Deekin humming the "Doom Song" under his breath for the entire ride, the bucket finally reached solid ground. Emily stepped out into a damp cavern. As she pulled Deekin out of the bucket, she noticed there was a gate far off in the distance. She heard Thesta's voice from above calling, "Are you both unhurt?"

"Yes, thank you!" Emily called back. She felt bad for doubting the priestess and was about say so when something fell from above and smacked her right in the face. "Oww!" she yelped, involuntarily. Deekin stopped his singing and looked at her with concern.

Emily reached into the bucket and pulled out a frayed piece of rope… the same rope that had formerly connected the bucket to the surface. Furious, she threw the rope back into the bucket and shrieked, "Thesta! What have you done?"

"I've cut the rope that pulls the bucket up and down," came Thesta's amused voice. "Isn't that obvious?"

"Why would you do such a thing, leave us stranded down here with no way to send the other adventurers back to the surface?"

"Oh my dear Miss Emeraude, there's no need to carry on so," Thesta drawled. "You must realize you won't be stranded for long. Durnan will eventually notice the rope has broken, and he'll be sure to repair it immediately. In fact, it will probably be fixed before you need to use it again, so it really doesn't do you any harm."

"But what if there's an emergency? The people down here will likely be badly hurt!"

"Well, that's what your healing powers are for, aren't they?" Thesta's laugh echoed in the cavernous room. "Besides, you're the Hero of Undrentide. There can't be much in stuffy little Undermountain to challenge a woman of your adventuring prowess. And if there is… well, perhaps it was a bit premature for the Realms to name you their new champion after all."

In her mind, Emily could see the sneer on Thesta's face. Her blood boiling, she screamed again, "Thesta—!"

"As much as I'm enjoying this delightful conversation, my dear, I really should get back to my duties. You really should get back to your quest, too. Either the well will be fixed when you return, or you'll find another way back. Or, you'll die. I honestly don't care which. You see, Emily, although the fate of Waterdeep concerns me greatly, your personal fate does not. The way I see it, by cutting the rope I've just eliminated a possible way for the drow to access the surface. The life of an inconsequential and rather irritating adventurer seems a small price to pay, don't you think? Farewell, Emily Emeraude. May the blessings of your god be upon you. Or not."

Emily stared helplessly up as the strange globe covering the well closed above her. She felt Deekin's long snout brush her leg. "Is we really trapped down here, Boss?" he asked quietly.

Emily looked sadly at him while she fished in her pack for a torch, but her brown eyes widened as her hand brushed something else. "No, Deekin," she said slowly. "We're not trapped."

Deekin's mood instantly changed, and he clapped his hands happily. "Yay! Deekin knew Boss had a plan!"

Emily laughed ruefully. "Yes, but unfortunately it goes against my previous plan…" She patted Deekin's head as she saw the look of incomprehension on his face. "We have a way back, but we will only use it in case of extreme emergency, got it?" Deekin nodded, and Emily couldn't help but return his smile. "Come on, Deekin. Let's go save the world… again."

"Right behind you, Boss!" said Deekin happily as they marched toward the mysterious gate.

Emily studied the patterns wrought on the gate's surface, but she could make no sense of them. She was contemplating whether the fire braziers on either side of the gate were somehow essential to opening it when suddenly the gate opened outwards toward them. An emaciated goblin raced through the opening, screaming bloody murder. Emily's mace was in her hand in an instant, but instead of attacking the goblin ran between her and Deekin towards the well. Emily barely had time to process this strange development before her attention was claimed by the skeleton warrior running through the gate. The skeleton was not expecting armed resistance, and Emily and Deekin made quick work of him. Once it was clear the pile of bones on the ground would not rise again, Emily turned back to the well, where the goblin was watching her warily.

"You… you're not a fairy! No, no, no. But you don't work for the ogre, no, no, no. Grovel's never seen you before, yet you saved Grovel's life! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, Grovel," Emily said as the goblin slowly approached them. "I was just trying to help."

Grovel stopped short. "Help? You want to help? Hmm… Yes, that's good. Good, good, good. Everyone else down here is mad, fighting and killing. But not you. You want to help. Yes, yes, yes!"

Deekin gave the goblin a suspicious look. "Deekin thinks you want Boss to hire you…" he said, and Emily was suddenly seized by a slight panic. _Oh, Lathander_, she silently prayed, _if it is your will that I journey with two talkative little humanoids who refer to themselves in the third person, then your will be done. But I truly hope that is not your will, else I will probably go insane!_

Luckily for Emily, Deekin agreed with her silent sentiments. "Forget it!" he screamed at the goblin. "Boss not needs your help… she gots Deekin!" Emily breathed a sigh of relief. _Bless his possessive kobold heart._

"No, no, no," said Grovel, apparently as relieved by Deekin's outburst as Emily. "Grovel just wants to talk. Maybe you want to talk, yes? Talking is what Grovel's good at. You have questions, Grovel will help you, like you helped Grovel. Better than fighting, yes?"

Emily asked Grovel about how he ended up in Undermountain, leading him to explain how he and his tribe had been brought there by Halaster as a challenge for any would-be adventurers. Apparently the leader of Grovel's tribe didn't like this arrangement and tried to fight his way out of the dungeon. As punishment, Halaster used the goblins as food for the other monsters.

"But Grovel's still alive. Not strong, but smart. Hide. Watch. Wait for a chance, yes? Maybe. With Halaster gone, maybe now is a good time to escape, yes?"

Emily's eyes widened in shock. "Halaster's gone? What do you mean?"

"Halaster's gone," repeated the goblin. "Don't know where, no, no, no. But he's gone, yes, yes, yes. That's why the creatures in Undermountain are fighting. Halaster made us play nice, but now he's gone, and Undermountain is more dangerous than ever. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Everyone fighting for power, fighting for control, fighting to escape." He explained how an ogre mage and a fairy queen were waging a civil war to determine who should rule the dungeon.

Once Grovel was finished, Emily brushed a stray curl from her forehead and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Grovel. That was indeed very useful information."

"Deekin thinks the innkeeper would want to know that Mad Mage is gone missing."

"Of course he would, Deekin, but thanks to Thesta we can't really tell him, now can we?" The cleric glared up at the ceiling then shook her head. "There's nothing for it now but to go down into Undermountain and try to sort this out ourselves."

"Wait, wait, wait!" cried Grovel anxiously. "Grovel wants out of the dungeon. Too much fighting, too much killing. You can help, yes? Maybe? Yes? You can help Grovel escape?"

Emily looked down at the frail goblin. If she left him in the cavern, there would be no way he would survive another skeleton chase. The only way she could keep him safe would be to take him with her, and that was something none of them really wanted. Emily hated to abandon one who had been so helpful, even if he was a goblin, but there didn't seem to be any other choice. Unless…

"Deekin," she said with a smile, "you're right."

"Yay! Umm, about what, Boss?"

"Durnan would want to know that Halaster is missing. In fact, I think he would consider it something of an emergency, wouldn't you?"

* * *

"How may I serve you, Sojourner… and your ever-increasing menagerie?"

Emily had shown Deekin how to create a binding point using the Relic of the Reaper, and they had teleported to his realm. Grovel had not taken the journey well.

"It's cold here, cold, cold, cold! Too cold for Grovel! And so dark, very, very dark." The goblin shivered. "Creepy…" he whispered to himself as he clutched at Emily's cloak.

Emily shrugged him off impatiently. She didn't want to stay here any longer than she needed to, and she had little time to waste trying to make Grovel feel comfortable. "Keep him moving, will you Deekin?" She marched past the Reaper, Deekin prodding Grovel along with his dagger.

"Sojourner—?" the Reaper began, but Emily cut him off.

"Just passing through today, Reaper. I won't be needing you." She stopped in front of the portal that would take them back to the Yawning Portal and waited for Deekin and Grovel to catch up.

"You seem upset with me, Sojourner," the Reaper observed tonelessly. "Has my service been unsatisfactory?"

Emily crossed her arms and sighed. "No, Reaper, your service has been fine, as always. But I am upset with you." She paused, but the Reaper gave no visible reaction. Frustrated, she took Grovel's shaking hand. "I don't really have time to discuss this with you at the moment," she snapped. "Perhaps if I come back again. Goodbye."

Before the Reaper could give his customary farewell, Emily stepped into the portal. In an instant, the Reaper was alone except for the words "Bye, Big Reaper Ghost!" echoing off of the walls.

* * *

The common room was plunged into chaos at the sight of the poor, frightened goblin and his heavily armed escorts. Emily tried her best to calm everyone down, since their frantic screams were only making Grovel more upset, but she eventually abandoned the futile effort and just tried to drag him to the well room as quickly as possible. There was a close call with the drunken dwarf Linu had tripped over, who was now awake but no less intoxicated; he mistook Grovel for his brother and wrapped him in a tight hug. Grovel did not like this very much, and he liked it even less when the dwarf asked him how he escaped the dragon's stomach after being eaten. Grovel pathetically beat on the dwarf's arms as the dwarf waxed philosophic about the properties of dragon stomach acid until Emily was able to pry him loose.

"Wait, Boss!" Deekin said as Emily carried the goblin to the door. "Deekin is very curious about tipsy dwarf's tale! You see, Deekin asked Old Master about dragon digestion once, and he said—"

"Not now, Deekin!" Emily yelled, and she grabbed the kobold's hand and dragged him down the stairs.

Durnan was very surprised to see Emily coming down from his inn instead of up from the well, but he was not nearly as surprised as Thesta was. Emily smiled; she had a weakness for making grand entrances. "Hello, all!" she said cheerily, waving with the hand that wasn't wrapped around a goblin torso. "I know I haven't been gone very long, but I discovered something I thought it essential that you should know, Durnan."

"I—I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Emily," Durnan stammered. "I just wasn't expecting you to arrive in this… manner."

"Nor was I," said Thesta icily. "How is it that you managed to return without the use of the well?"

Emily smiled wider. "Magic, Thesta dear!" She winked at the priestess, whose eyes were so narrow Emily wasn't sure she could even see out of them. "I'm afraid we had some trouble with the well rope, Durnan. If you get the chance, you should probably replace it."

Durnan, startled, pulled up the rope until he saw it had broken. "Thank the gods you had another way back, Emily! This could have been disastrous for our expedition!"

"I always try to be prepared for as many outcomes as possible," Emily said, with quite a bit of bravado in her voice. "An adventurer who can't adapt to challenging situations won't be an adventurer for long!" Perhaps she was enjoying her triumph over Thesta a little too much. Emily glanced at Thesta's withering glare and decided she didn't care.

"I brought you a little surprise, Durnan. Meet Grovel." She held out the still-shaking goblin for Durnan to see.

Durnan peered closely at Grovel, and then gave Emily a puzzled look. "That's a goblin."

_By the gods, he is a little slow on the uptake, isn't he?_ Emily was too pleased with herself for getting the better of Thesta to be impatient with him, however. "Yes, Durnan, this is a goblin. He told me a very interesting story. Tell Durnan what you told me about Halaster, Grovel," she instructed the whimpering creature.

Terrified though he was, Grovel managed to relate to Durnan what he knew of Halaster's disappearance and how that had affected the climate of Undermountain. Durnan nodded along, though he was obviously surprised by the goblin's information. "So the mad mage has vanished, has he?" he said once Grovel had finished. "But where has he gone? And why? I don't like this Emily. Halaster may be up to something. You need to find out more."

"Of course, Durnan. In the meantime, I need you to watch after little Grovel here. I promised him safety on the surface in exchange for his knowledge."

"You made a deal with this foul creature?" Thesta shrieked. "Durnan, the poor woman's mind has already been affected by the horrors of Undermountain!"

"I'm not crazy, Thesta; I'm just compassionate," Emily stated evenly. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Now, ladies, please," Durnan murmured as the two clerics glared at each other. He finally seemed to recognize the mutual hostility between them. "Emily seems to be perfectly sane, Thesta. However, I'm not really sure, Emily, what you expect me to do with our little informant. Turn him loose?"

Emily shrugged. "He seems harmless enough. Look at him. You can see his bones through his skin! He can't hurt anybody."

"Yes, yes, yes, Grovel is harmless," cut in the goblin quickly. "Grovel not fight, Grovel hide, stay out of the way, yes, yes, yes."

Durnan sighed. "He may be harmless to you and me, but he could still cause a lot of trouble for the average person on the street. And even if he means no harm, people aren't going to take to his kind. Not with things the way they are."

"Well, what if you put him to work here at the inn?" Emily suggested. "That way you can make sure nobody hurts him… or vice versa."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Grovel cried enthusiastically. "Grovel works hard, follows instructions. You'll see. Grovel makes you very happy. Just say the word and Grovel jumps into action!"

Durnan considered the proposal for a moment. "Well, with so many people crammed into the inn, it's hard to keep things clean. I guess I could use someone to tidy up a bit…"

"Yay! Thank you, thank you, human man. Grovel gets started right away. Spic and span, clean as clean can be. You'll see!" Grovel leapt out of Emily's arms and ran straight for Thesta's pile of medical supplies.

"Aaahh!" Thesta screamed as Grovel began dusting one of her potion bottles. "Durnan, get this thing away from me!"

Emily chuckled. "Thesta, he's harmless. Trust me." Thesta's frown made it clear she would do nothing of the kind. Emily shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Durnan. "Well, I'm off. I'll look into Halaster's disappearance some more while I search for the others. Are you ready to go, Deekin?"

Deekin, who had been transcribing the entire conversation, lifted his quill with a flourish. "Deekin is born ready, Boss!"

Emily took his hand with a smile. "Then away we go!" she said, and in a blinding flash of red light, cleric and bard were gone.


	7. Part I, Ch 7: Don't Kill the Kobold

Part I—Chapter 7: Please Don't Kill the Kobold

Emily looked around cautiously. After passing through the imposing gate, the floor beneath her feet changed from harsh rock to smooth stone. Though the light was dim, there were enough torches guttering on the walls to render her own torch redundant. As she smothered it and placed it back in her pack, she noticed Deekin inspecting a red circular symbol on the ground.

"Deekin thinks this be some kind of magical trap. Best steer clear of it, Boss."

"Thanks, Deekin," Emily said as she approached the runes warily. She was bending over to see if she could translate them when Deekin suddenly shouted, "Boss! Deekin sees dead people!"

Startled by Deekin's outburst, Emily fell forward into the circle. She felt the magic of the runes piercing her skin as she quickly got to her feet, mace in hand. She looked about wildly, mentally preparing herself to turn the approaching undead, but there were no skeletons or zombies to be found. _Oh, no. Maybe these runes have affected my eyesight somehow,_ she thought, trying not to panic. "Deekin, where are the monsters?" she cried.

Deekin tilted his head to the side as he watched his boss spinning in circles, waving her mace at imaginary enemies. He thought about pulling out his quill to make a quick sketch of her antics, but he decided against it, reasoning that she probably wouldn't let him put it in the book anyway. He sighed at the lost opportunity and shook his head at Emily. "Deekin not sees monsters, Boss," he said. "Deekin sees bard lady from inn. Remember her?"

Emily stopped her less-than-graceful twirling and looked past Deekin to see Sharwyn sprawled on the floor. She steeled herself as she stepped back over the magical runes and knelt beside the bard. All of the magical equipment the woman had been wearing in the inn was gone, and her armor had been torn to shreds. There was a longbow and a half-empty quiver lying by her side, and an arrow was sticking out of her chest. Emily delicately removed the arrow and concluded from the glowing green head that it had been poisoned. She placed it on the ground, careful to keep the arrowhead pointing away from her and her friends, and asked Deekin for some bandages.

"Why Boss need bandages?" Deekin asked as he pulled some out of his pack. "Bard Lady doesn't seem to need them anymore."

Emily took them from him and began to clean Sharwyn's wound. "That's true, Deekin. If I just raised her right now, she would be fine, but you see how her skin is discolored here?" she asked, pointing to where she had removed the arrow. "It would stay that sickly green color even after I brought her back to life. By cleaning her up first I can reduce the chance of there being any permanent damage. See?"

The wound was still bruised from the arrow's impact, but the skin no longer appeared poisoned. Deekin peered at it closely for a moment, and then resumed his writing. Emily wiped her hands and cast the spell that would bring Sharwyn's soul back to the land of the living.

Sharwyn's eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly in surprise, too quickly apparently because she moaned in pain as she lay back down. Emily watched closely as the bard's face went pale as she realized where she was. "This… this is Undermountain!" she choked out. "How did I…?" Her eyes focused on Emily's. "What happened? Did I die? Who are you?"

Emily lightly stroked the bard's red hair, trying to calm her down. "You don't remember me?" she asked softly. "I spoke to you and your friends at the inn."

Sharwyn peered at Emily closely. "Of course," she said slowly. "You… you're Emily Emeraude. The cleric that Durnan was waiting for."

Emily smiled at her. "That's right, Sharwyn. What else do you remember?"

The bard furrowed her brow in concentration. "There was a fight when we chased that beholder down here… and I was hit by a poisoned arrow and killed."

She tried to sit up to look at the wound, but Emily eased her back down to her elbows. "Take it slowly, Sharwyn," she warned. "You may be alive, but that doesn't mean your strength is restored yet. Just keep talking to me. Do you know where the rest of your group is?"

Sharwyn shook her head sadly. "I've no idea. If my companions had been victorious, surely Linu would have raised me. They wouldn't have abandoned me here." She paused a moment and chuckled softly. "Well, Tomi maybe… but never Linu or Daelan. I can only assume they fled further into the dungeon… or died, perhaps."

Emily felt the woman shudder in her arms. "There, there, don't worry about them. I'm sure we'll find them soon, and if they aren't alive when we do they soon will be!" She smiled at the bard. Sharwyn smiled weakly back. "Let's try sitting up again, shall we?" Emily encouraged her.

The cleric slowly pushed Sharwyn into a sitting position. Confident the bard was able to support herself, she removed her arms. Sharwyn wobbled for a moment but didn't fall. The color seemed to be returning to her cheeks as she looked around, but suddenly her eyes went wide. "Kobold!" she screamed, and in an instant she had an arrow aimed and ready to fire.

Emily quickly forced the bard's bow down. "No, Sharwyn, that's Deekin! You remember Deekin, don't you?"

Deekin slowly pulled his book down from where it had been covering his face. "Deekin not mean any harm, Bard Lady," he said quietly.

Sharwyn eyed him closely, but she kept a death grip on her bow. "Deekin, sing!" Emily hissed, hoping that if Sharwyn didn't remember his face she would at least remember his song. Deekin complied, and as the off-key notes of the Doom Song rang through the hall Sharwyn dropped her bow and put her hands over her ears. "Alright, alright, I remember you!" she yelled over the singing. "Just please, make it stop!"

"Whatever Bard Lady asks," Deekin said with a smile, clearly quite pleased with himself. Emily laughed as she helped Sharwyn to her feet. "Sorry about that. I just couldn't let you shoot the poor guy."

Sharwyn smiled and nodded as she brushed the dust off of her legs. "I understand. Thank you, Emily, for bringing me back. I suppose I should go back to the inn now. I've no illusions about being able to make it through Undermountain on my own."

"Who says you'd be on your own?" Emily asked.

The bard seemed slightly surprised and arched an eyebrow. "Are you offering what I think you're offering? Most of my equipment appears to have been taken. I'm hardly in a state to be of much help to you, Emily."

Emily shrugged. "A little help is better than no help, and I'm sure there are plenty of other dead adventurers around here who would be happy to provide you with replacement equipment. Besides, you may have a more difficult time getting back to the inn than you might think…"

Sharwyn's eyebrow arched even higher at this last statement, but after a moment's consideration she grinned. "Well, I must admit I didn't want to stop the adventure this early in Undermountain. Lead on, Lady Emeraude!"

"Umm, she prefers Boss," muttered Deekin.

Emily shook her head at Sharwyn's questioning look. "No, actually, I don't," she whispered, "but don't tell Deekin that." Sharwyn winked in reply, and the three set off to explore Undermountain.

* * *

"Huzzah!" cried Deekin joyfully. He ran up to Emily, crossbow still in hand after their epic battle.

Emily was panting, trying to catch her breath as she looked at the dead blue dragon lying at her feet. "Huzzah, indeed, little buddy," she managed between breaths. She gave the kobold a weary smile.

Sharwyn's laughter echoed from behind her. "Well, Emily, if you're able to sustain this level of excitement throughout our whole adventure I'll be able to write hundreds of songs in your honor."

"Hey, Bard Lady," Deekin said, suddenly angry. "It be Deekin's job to chronicle Boss's adventures, not yours. Tell her, Boss."

"Now, Deekin," Emily said, "it's not really fair to forbid Sharwyn to write songs about our journey. She's a bard, too, after all." Sharwyn nodded in agreement. "Besides," Emily continued, "she said she would write songs, not a book. Surely that would be okay, right Deekin?"

Deekin crossed his arms and huffed. Sharwyn smiled her sweetest smile and knelt down before the kobold. "Deekin, I would never presume to usurp your title as chronicler of the great Emily Emeraude. If I promise to only write songs, and never to write a book, about our adventures together, will you be satisfied?"

Deekin looked at his competitor warily. "Umm… Deekin supposes so… as long as Bard Lady also promises not to sing the songs until after Deekin has published book and it becomes an inter-realms best-seller."

Sharwyn laughed and extended her hand. "It's a deal!" Deekin grudgingly shook her hand.

Emily rolled her eyes. "If you two are quite done licensing my life away, can we look for the treasure? We just killed a dragon! Think of what we could find!"

Unfortunately, the dragon's treasure was not nearly as abundant as Emily had been hoping. In fact, the most remarkable thing they found was not a weapon or a suit of armor but a magnifying glass; it was clearly magical, but even the combined bardic lore possessed by Deekin and Sharwyn could make no guesses as to its purpose. Emily twirled it in her hand as she watched her two companions get ready for the night's rest. Deekin was copying down sentences from his previously written dragon adventure, pleased that he now had a real dragon encounter to write about. Sharwyn was tuning the strings on her lute, humming softly to herself. The bard was looking much healthier now that she'd been alive for a little while. They had managed to find her some leather armor in a chest guarded by a group of drow and duergar, and her aim had gotten more accurate as the day went on. She was feeling so rejuvenated that she volunteered to take the first watch, but Emily was too energized from the day's dragon slaying to sleep.

Sharwyn put down her lute in frustration. "Ugh, why aren't there more words that rhyme with dragon?" she asked angrily. "Every hero immortalized in song who has ever slain a _dragon_ is always drinking a _flagon_ of ale as they pull away their _wagon_ full of treasure. It's just so overdone!"

Emily laughed. "There are a lot of songs about dead dragons, are there?"

"Of course! Any hero worth remembering has a song about slaying a dragon, even if they actually haven't. That's how you know you've made it in the adventuring world."

Emily felt a sense of pride swelling up inside her. "So… does this mean I'm a real adventurer now?" she asked quietly.

Sharwyn pretended to consider the cleric for a moment. "I should say it does, Emily. Although, personally I would have considered the whole Undrentide scenario as a defining moment, but slaying a dragon can only help your legend grow. You're still not in Lavernica's league, however; she's slain at least three."

Emily's ears perked up at the mention of the Hero of Neverwinter's name. "That's right; I'd forgotten you said you came from Neverwinter."

Sharwyn resumed her strumming and nodded. "Yes, I was originally born there, though I spent much of my career away. I only returned to help save the city from the plague, and afterwards I decided to stay… For a little while," she amended with a frown.

Emily sat up eagerly. "I'm from Conyberry, and although I was away in Hilltop for much of the action I heard a lot about the plague in letters from my family back home. I'm always excited to meet someone who was actually a part of it. How did you help save Neverwinter?"

Sharwyn shrugged. "Same way I'm helping you now, I suppose. Fighting and casting spells when I'm not singing. I worked with Aribeth de Tylmarande, in fact."

Both women's faces grew somber. "I take it you've heard of her?" asked the bard. Emily nodded. Sharwyn sighed. "I don't blame her for what she did," she said softly. "Not all of it. It's a sad tale, really… especially how it all ended."

Emily pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "I heard she died…"

Sharwyn closed her eyes tightly, banishing painful images from her mind. "Isn't that how all these stories end?" she snapped angrily.

Emily felt bad for upsetting her friend, even though she was also a little upset herself. She tried to turn the topic to something happier. "Did you know Lavernica, too?"

Sharwyn's expression softened slightly. "I did. The revisionists like to play down her role in saving Neverwinter, but I was there… if it weren't for her, we would never have won the day."

"You know," Emily began cautiously, "in spite of all I've heard about Aribeth, I never met anyone who could tell me what happened to Lavernica. Do you know?"

Sharwyn shrugged and frowned. Clearly this topic was just as unpleasant as the last. "She left not long after the plague ended and Aribeth died. There were… differences with Lord Nasher as I recall."

Emily got the feeling that Sharwyn knew more about Lavernica's disappearance than she was telling, but she decided to leave the matter be for the moment. "Did you stay in Neverwinter long?" she asked instead.

"For a time I stayed, certainly," Sharwyn replied. "Lord Nasher was eager for all of us who had helped with the plague to stay and help rebuild the militia." Her voice grew wistful. "We were heroes, and it felt good. I had always wanted to be famous, so I was in my glory at the time. It just… didn't last very long."

"Why? What happened?"

Sharwyn spoke hesitantly, as though she was much less comfortable telling her own tale than telling the tales of others. "A… man I fell in love with left the city. He did not come back. Neverwinter just seemed so lonely after that. I know it does not sound very strong of me, but…"

Her voiced trailed off, but Emily was no longer paying attention. She saw herself standing on a bridge in the city of Athkatla, thousands of miles away, deep within the nation of Amn. It had only been a year since she left, but it seemed like so much longer. She had journeyed there to study at their renowned Temple of Lathander, and there she had met a man. He had never actually left Athkatla, at least not to Emily's knowledge, but he had certainly left her… "No, Sharwyn," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Strength has nothing to do with your ability to overcome…"

Heartbreak. The word hovered in the air, unspoken yet loud in their ears. Their eyes met, and both knew that nothing more would be said that night. Emily silently curled up under her cloak, pretending to fall asleep. Sharwyn laid aside her lute and picked up her bow, attempting to be an effective guard. The only thing that gave them comfort was the knowledge that they were not alone in their loneliness. But that was small comfort indeed.

* * *

Emily and her friends had been wandering around the southern part of the level for hours. They had come across a few battles between the ogres and fairies that Grovel had mentioned, but it felt like ages since something exciting had happened. Emily was beginning to wonder if they were walking in circles when something unusual caught Deekin's eye.

"Ooo!" he cried excitedly. "Look there, Boss! There be dead half-orc! Right there!" He pointed to a body lying just inside the next room.

"Daelan!" Sharwyn cried. The bard rushed to his side and laid her head on his chest, listening for a heartbeat. After a few moments, she raised her head slowly and looked at Emily pleadingly.

"Don't worry, Sharwyn," Emily reassured her. "I'll be able to raise him, just like I raised you." Sharwyn smiled in relief as the cleric knelt down across from her. Daelan's body was covered in slices and cuts, but thankfully all of his limbs were still attached. Emily took a deep breath and cast the spell of resurrection.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then suddenly, the half-orc's eyes snapped open wide. His head darted from side to side, as if he were looking for an enemy that was no longer there. Emily worried that he might try to attack one of them, but his expression calmed as he focused on Sharwyn's face.

"Daelan, it's me—Sharwyn," the bard said softly, gently stroking his cheek. "Do you remember me?"

"Yes…" he said slowly. "I know you, Sharwyn." Daelan smiled briefly, and then grimaced in pain at the effort. He turned his head to look at Emily. "And you… You're Emily Emeraude, the hero that Durnan was waiting for."

Sharwyn smiled down at him. "Yes, Daelan, very good. And this little fellow is Deekin," she said, indicating the kobold who had been keeping his distance. Daelan eyed him narrowly.

"He's a friend," Emily rushed to say. She didn't want a repeat of Sharwyn's attempt to kill the little bard. "He was at the inn, too. He's a bard, who sings—"

"But we don't need him to sing right now," Sharwyn interrupted pointedly. "Just know that he isn't going to hurt you, Daelan."

Daelan started at Deekin for a moment longer before slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Right… It's all coming back. The battle at Durnan's inn… I remember."

Emily could feel the half-orc's heart beginning to pick up speed. "Tell us what happened to you, but do it slowly," she instructed. "Getting yourself agitated again will only hurt your recovery."

Daelan nodded and took a deep breath before continuing. "I remember a beholder. We chased it down here, but we were being led into an ambush. There was a volley of arrows…" He looked guiltily at Sharwyn. "Everything happened so fast, there wasn't time to think…"

Sharwyn took his hand. "I know, Daelan. I'm alright now, that's what matters."

Daelan squeezed her hand. "I'm glad of that." Sharwyn's face turned ever-so-slightly red, and Daelan quickly turned back to Emily. "Enraged, I threw myself into the darkness to chase after them. I never did catch the cowards who ambushed us, and when I finally gave up the chase I realized that I had become separated from the rest of the group."

Emily had been cleaning the dried blood from his many wounds as he spoke. "How did you get killed, may I ask? Judging by your cuts you look to have been in a ferocious battle."

Daelan scoffed. "I was careless," he muttered. "While searching for a way out, I stumbled onto this room of mirrors." He gestured around him at the rows of mirrors on either side of the narrow room.

"Umm… Deekin not means to interrupt, but Deekin read about this place once. It be called the Hall of Mirrors, if Deekin remembers right… which he might nots… Room Deekin reads about be nearer to entrance, maybe…"

Emily could tell Deekin was starting to get lost in one of his meandering tales again, so she quickly cut in. "Never mind about the location, Deekin. What makes the Hall of Mirrors dangerous?"

"Hall itself not be dangerous, Boss. But you needs to be careful if you looks into mirrors… some of them does strange things. Bad stuff."

"The kobold is correct," Daelan said. "I looked into one and saw my own reflection, but I also thought I saw the reflection of glittering treasure at my feet. Intrigued, I approached it. One of those two." He pointed to the mirrors in the middle on the east wall. "To my horror, my own reflection stepped out from the mirror and attacked me!"

"Ooo, Deekin read about that mirror!" The others looked at him expectantly, waiting for more information. Deekin looked down at his feet. "Deekin not gots anything else to says. Deekin just remembers reading about it…" he mumbled.

Daelan cleared his throat and continued. "My vile twin was able to match and counter my every move. From the condition you found me in, it's obvious what the ultimate result of the fight was. That's the last thing I remember."

"Do you know where Linu and Tomi are?" Sharwyn asked.

Daelan shook his head ruefully. "No. I was hoping to come across them—and you—as I wandered the dungeon, but luck was not with me. I suspect they may have gone deeper into Undermountain." He sighed. "I hope they fared better than I did."

"Well, you're looking much better now than you did five minutes ago!" Emily said cheerfully. "What are you going to do now that you've rejoined the living?"

The half-orc furrowed his brow. "I've learned it's too dangerous for me to survive down here alone. I will probably go back to the inn."

"Don't be silly," said Sharwyn. "You'll come with us! That's all right, isn't it Emily?" The cleric nodded in agreement.

Daelan looked at Sharwyn in confusion. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Most of my equipment is gone, and I haven't had much luck here in Undermountain so far."

Sharwyn laughed. "What state do you think I was in when Emily found me? Thankfully, she seems to have enough luck down here for all of us."

"Luck?" Emily scoffed. "I thought I was just incredibly skilled!" She could only keep a straight face for a moment before she broke into a smile. "Truthfully, Daelan, we could use you. I'm sure we'll find some replacement equipment for you soon enough. If you can do to our enemies what your creepy mirror twin was able to do to you, you'll more than prove your value to our little group."

The half-orc grinned. "Thank you, Emily. The truth is, I wasn't ready to end my adventures here in Undermountain quite yet."

"Another adventurer joins the epic tale!" cried Deekin. "Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!" echoed Emily.

"Huzzah!" laughed Sharwyn, and she threw her arms around Daelan's neck and hugged him, thoroughly embarrassing the reserved barbarian.

Emily smirked at him and began examining the mirrors from a distance. She could see her own reflection, but the mirror showed a pile of treasure at her reflection's feet. She saw Deekin's reflection come up next to hers in the mirror. "Is that treasure real?" she asked him.

"Deekin thinks so, but Deekin not sure how you would gets it."

Emily twirled a red curl around her finger as she thought. "I guess we could try breaking the mirrors. See if anything falls out?"

"Deekin guesses you could, but there might be mirror here that not likes that much, though. It be lots of bad luck anyway, no?"

Emily looked down at her little friend. "I suppose we could always just leave them alone…"

The kobold looked up at her. "That should be okays… Though Deekin kind of thinks that be very boring…"

Emily smiled. "Boring? What's the point of having a boring adventure?" Deekin returned her smile, and before she could talk herself out of it Emily stepped up to the nearest mirror and placed her hand on its surface. The mirror rippled for a moment, and then her hand fell through. "Careful, Boss!" Deekin cried, but Emily thankfully kept her balance this time and quickly grabbed something from the pile of treasure. Once she pulled her hand back, the pile disappeared, and the surface of the mirror became smooth and dull. Emily slowly opened her clenched fist.

"Hey, I grabbed an emerald!" she cried happily. Emeralds were her favorite gemstone. She had stored all of the ones she had ever found in her pack, unwilling to sell them. Of course, the drow thief had stolen them along with the rest of her possessions, but at least now she could start her collection anew.

Daelan shook his head at her, unable to understand why she would take such a risk. Sharwyn poked his arm. "See?" she said. "I told you she was lucky."

Emily gazed into the stone and thought about the bard's remark. She certainly hadn't felt very lucky these past few days, but maybe she'd been looking at her situation all wrong. She had survived an assassination attempt, a vicious battle, and a beholder attack. She'd been reunited with one of her closest friends, and she had two new companions to adventure with. And now, she had found an emerald. She turned the stone in her hand and watched the green light reflected by the torches dance across the walls. _Sharwyn's right_, she thought with a smile. _I'm pretty lucky after all. _


	8. Part I, Ch 8: Adventures in Swordplay

Part I—Chapter 8: Adventures in Swordplay

"Am I the only one hearing this?"

Emily looked frantically back at her companions, who were all examining the contents of the Hall of Sleeping Kings. As Deekin had told them, the room they were now in was home to the great kings, queens, and sorcerers from the ancient northern lands, preserved in all their skeletal glory. Though dead for hundreds of years, the sign at the entrance which read "Leave Sleeping Kings Be!" was splattered with fresh blood, indicating that the sleeping kings woke up every now and then. Since they seemed to be stationary for the moment, Emily and her friends had decided to have a look around. Each had been drawn to what interested them, and Emily had been led to a glowing red longsword resting in the undead arms of one King Bolon. A sword which she now believed was speaking to her…

"Yes, I am speaking to you, you foolish human. Take me out of this brute's hand and away from here!"

Emily looked back at the sword, her brown eyes wide as saucers. She pointed an accusatory finger at the blade. "You are _not _speaking. That's impossible! Right, Deekin? Sharwyn?" She sighed in frustration. "What's the point of having _two _bards if neither of them is around to share their bardic knowledge?" she muttered angrily as she marched over to where the two were standing.

Sharwyn was reading the placard above the remains of a ghoul. "'The Vivisectionist.' Well, that certainly sounds ominous." The bard shivered in disgust.

"'Revisionist Balorthon,'" read Deekin from another placard. "Hey, Boss?" he asked, noticing Emily's approach. "Does you think this guy was storyteller like Deekin? Changes boring stories so they be more interesting, maybe?"

"I don't know, Deekin, and, my apologies, but I don't really care." The cleric placed a hand on each of the bards' shoulders. "Guys, I think the glowing sword over there is talking to me. Can you come look at it with me and prove whether or not I'm going mad?"

"You? Mad?" screamed the sword from its perch. "I swear _I _shall go mad if I suffer one more decade of staring at this room! _That_ is what it means to go mad!"

"No, Boss, Deekin hears it, too."

"Yes, dear cleric," Sharwyn said, patting Emily gently on the head. "You mind is intact. Daelan!" she called to the barbarian, who had stayed near the entrance examining the doors. "We're going to go talk to a sentient sword now. Would you like to join us?"

Daelan followed them to King Bolon's throne, his brow furrowed. "The locking mechanisms on these doors are very strange," he said. "They don't seem to be able to be manipulated from the outside or inside, so how do they close?"

Sharwyn sighed and tossed her long red hair at him. "Really, Daelan, Emily has found a magical talking sword, and all you can think about is door locks?" Daelan looked at her with a hurt expression, but when she winked at him he grew confused and decided to look at his boots for a while.

Emily meanwhile was attempting to start a conversation with her newest acquaintance. "Err…. Hello, Sir Sword. My name is Emily Emeraude. Umm… do you have a name, or shall I just call you Sir Sword? Because if you prefer something else, it's fine, just tell—"

"SHUT UP!" yelled the sword. Emily could swear she heard it sighing, though without the presence of lungs she couldn't for the life of her figure out how that was possible. As she pondered the details of the respiratory system of an inanimate object, the sword continued. "Far be it for me to make a simple request and hope that an adventurer might simply do as they are asked for once, but no. We have to have introductions! Fine. My name is Enserric the Grey, one time mage and adventurer, now a spirit trapped in this blasted weapon. You'll forgive me for not bowing."

"Your spirit is trapped in there?" asked Emily. "How long ago was this?"

"I don't know," Enserric droned. "I didn't get sucked into a calendar, you see. Honestly, does this really matter? Just take me away from here!"

"Look, sir, I'm a cleric. I might be able to get you out of there. Do you remember anything about how you came to be trapped in the sword?"

"I'm sorry. I was too busy _dying_ to remember the specifics of what was happening to my soul at the time. Anyway, I'm sure it's been far too long for your healing spells to have any use, so please, I beg you, take me away from here! Use me to chop all your enemies to ribbons, we'll have such fun!"

Emily looked down at the mace in her hand. "Well, since I'm not exactly proficient in swords, that seems to be out of the question. What shall we do then? Debate the great mysteries of life?"

"Well, now, that could be fun. My intelligence is considerable, and I… am… very… bored! Just take me with you, and we can talk about anything you want!"

Emily eyed the sword warily. "You say you're intelligent, hmm? You know, I've heard tales about intelligent weapons taking over their users…"

"That be right!" chimed in Deekin. "Deekin reads tale once where big double-axe talks owner into slicing himself in half so axe can feed off life force! In fact, pictures in book look lots like your axe, Big Half-Orc…" Daelan glared at the kobold, but Emily noticed him slightly tighten his grip on his weapon.

Enserric sighed again. "This is all very much beside the point. Now, you seem like a strong willed young woman. Are you actually afraid I could somehow dominate you? That's nonsense. Pick me up, and let's go slice some heads off!"

Emily crossed her arms. "I'd love to help you, Enserric, really, but as I told you I have no need of a longsword."

"Please, please, please!" the sword desperately cried. "Sell me then, or… or I have a better idea! Let me change my shape into something more useful! I can turn into a dagger! Or a short sword! I can even grow as big as a greatsword, how about that?"

Emily considered for a moment. "Can you turn into a mace?" she asked.

"A mace?! Why on earth would I turn into a mace?!"

"Because I can use a mace. You said you wanted to be useful, right?"

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF MYSTRA, JUST PICK ME UP!"

At that moment, an ogre burst through the door nearest to them. He seemed to be running away from something, and he barreled over Emily in his rush to escape. As she fell to the ground, she dropped her mace, and it rolled underneath one of the thrones. Struggling back to her feet, she saw a large band of harpies enter the hall, hot on the orc's heels. The leader noticed her dazed expression, however, and the harpy quickly directed her followers to change targets. Emily took one look at the approaching monsters and grabbed Enserric from the skeleton's loose grip. The longsword felt awkward in her hands, but it was better than nothing. She moved to stand beside Daelan, and she could hear Sharwyn pulling her bowstring taut. The one thing she didn't hear was Deekin singing. _Why isn't he singing?_ she thought with growing alarm.

"Umm, Boss? Deekin thinks kings be done with their nap time…"

Emily turned back to look at King Bolon, Enserric's former owner. His eyes began to glow, and creakily he stood up and pointed a long, bony finger at her. He was definitely awake, and he was definitely angry.

The door suddenly slammed shut, and Emily was sure she heard it lock. The skeleton took one halting step towards her and picked up a sword lying next to his throne. _How many weapons do these sleeping kings have? _Emily wondered briefly before realizing that leaning over left the skeleton off balance. Seizing her opportunity, Emily threw back her arms and swung with all her might… leading with the flat side of the blade.

"WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS WAS THAT?!" Enserric screamed in disgust as the skeleton fell to the floor. "I swear, woman, have you never fought with a sword before?"

"Can't say that I have!" Emily yelled back as she repeated the same maneuver on an approaching harpy. "I told you I wanted a mace!"

As the sword's flat side made contact with the harpy's head, Enserric cried out as if he were in physical pain. "Would you please stop doing that? It is absolutely humiliating!"

"I don't care how humiliating it is," Emily snapped, "it's working!" Another harpy fell, its skull smashed in.

"NO, NO, NO! Less bashing, more slashing!"

Emily rolled her eyes and proceeded to bash away at another skeleton. Having given herself some breathing room, she quickly used her undead turning powers to send a few of their adversaries running away in fear. A quick injury scan of her companions revealed no immediate causes for concern, so she plunged back into the melee. She even attempted a few slashing strokes to keep Enserric from screeching constantly, though she usually missed badly, prompting the sword to mock her ineptitude instead.

Soon enough, all of their enemies were dead. The first thing Emily did was march back to King Bolon's former throne and throw Enserric on the seat. "I've changed my mind," she said angrily. "You can rot in this room for all eternity."

Enserric started up another round of pleading, but Emily ignored him as she took stock of her companions. Deekin seemed no worse for wear, but Sharwyn was lying on the ground, her leg bent in a very unnatural position. Daelan was kneeling at her side.

"Please stay still, Sharwyn," the barbarian pleaded. "You're making it very difficult for me to pick you up."

"That is because I don't want you to pick me up!" Sharwyn snapped petulantly. "I am perfectly capable of walking. Just as soon as I figure out how to stand up…"

"Judging by the state of your leg, I don't see that happening without some medical attention," Emily said, bending down to examine the injured limb. Daelan looked on anxiously as the cleric cast her healing spell. In an instant, Sharwyn's leg was as good as new. "All better!" Emily pronounced happily, and Sharwyn stood up, grudgingly accepting Daelan's assistance. Emily watched the half-orc's gaze follow the bard as she began inspecting the considerable loot from the battle; when he noticed the cleric looking at him, he quickly busied himself with cleaning his double-axe.

Emily smiled to herself and walked over to Deekin, who had dutifully retrieved her mace from under King Bolon's throne. "Here be Boss's mace, but, umm… Deekin thinks Boss should take Yappy Sword, too."

Deekin's choice of nickname sparked a litany of curses from Enserric, which Emily ignored as she asked the kobold, "Why, Deekin? I clearly demonstrated my lack of swordsmanship in this battle. I think I should just stick to blunt weapons."

"But Yappy Sword be much more magical, Deekin be thinking. Look at it; it glows."

"The kobold is right; the sword is a superior weapon," Daelan said, looking up from his cleaning. "If it is simply a matter of being unfamiliar with using a sword, I would be honored to teach you, Emily. It is the least I can do after you saved my life."

Emily considered the half-orc's words carefully, and then shook her head. "I know I'm going to regret this," she muttered as she approached the throne. "Congratulations, Enserric," she said, picking up the sword. "Your lengthy imprisonment is at an end."

* * *

TWACK.

"No, no, no, your form is all wrong! I need to be moving more side-to-side, less up-and-down."

Emily glared at her new sword in exasperation. Daelan shouldered his double-axe and looked at the cleric with concern. "We've been at this for hours, Emily. Maybe we should call it a night."

Emily shook her head so fervently her curly hair whipped her face. "I'm not stopping until I can do this properly. What's the point of having a magic sword if I can't fight with it?"

"Boss was fightings with it, though," Deekin commented from his perch on his newly claimed throne. "Boss just fights badly, sort of."

"If you are referring to that hideous display against the undead, kobold, calling that 'fighting' is an insult to a most honorable profession."

"Oh, shut up, Enserric," Emily snapped. "You said you were a mage when you had a body; you're hardly in a position to be giving me advice about physical combat."

The sword made a sound that sounded remarkably like someone sticking his tongue out. Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she raised Enserric and assumed a fighting stance. "Please, Daelan, again? I'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

The half-orc sighed and nodded. "Very well, Emily. On my mark…"

"Deekin, another question, please," Emily requested absently as she focused on her next move.

"Okay, Boss! Umm… what be full name of really crazy wizard Boss be hunting?"

SMACK. Daelan parried Emily's swing.

"Halaster Blackcloak," the cleric answered as she backed away to prepare another strike. Sparring with Daelan had gotten rather dull after the first hour or two, so Emily had asked Deekin to quiz her about Undermountain's history to keep her mind engaged. It also helped distract from Enserric's constant stream of criticism.

"You're getting better, Emily, but your swing is still very stiff. Try to allow your body to flow with the blade," advised Daelan.

"Very good, Boss!" Deekin cried happily. "Halaster Blackcloak be correct answer. You is good student, Boss. If Deekin had cake, he would gives you a slice. But since Deekin sadly has no cake, Deekin gives you… another question! What building stands in place of old crazy wizard tower, maybe? This be Deekin's personal theory, Boss remembers…"

WHACK. Emily swung again and said, "The Yawning Portal Inn." To Daelan, she said, "Was that flowier?"

Daelan hesitated, a reluctant grimace on his face. This gave Enserric the opportunity to snort derisively. "About as flowy as a boulder. Oh, why was I fated to be found by so incompetent an adventurer?" he wailed.

"It was a little better," Daelan finally said as diplomatically as he could. Emily frowned and readied herself for a third try.

"Boss be right again! Deekin believe that why inn gots entrance to Undermountain. Hmm, Deekin thinks Boss ready for hard question, maybe. How many apprentices did crazy mage brings with him to Waterdeep?"

Emily blinked. She actually didn't know the answer. She frantically tried to remember and blurted out, "Five!" mid-swing. Rattled as she already was by Enserric's snide comment, she completely missed Daelan's axe and crashed into a tower shield lying on the floor nearby. The resulting clang initiated a stream of curses from Enserric and woke up their resident sleeping beauty.

Sharwyn sat up, startled out of her sleep. "What's going on? Are we under attack?"

"No, Sharwyn," Emily sighed sadly. "I'm just terrible at sword fighting."

"Boss also terrible with numbers," Deekin chimed in. "There be seven apprentices of crazy mage, not five."

"Right, seven," Emily muttered as she picked up the shield and moved it farther away from their sparring area. She turned back to apologize to Sharwyn, but the bard had already fallen back asleep, exhausted from breaking her leg so soon after being raised from the dead. Emily watched Daelan gently drape a cloak back over the sleeping woman and smiled. Daelan pretended not to notice the look on her face as he walked back over to her. "Are you sure—?" he began.

"Again," Emily said briskly, though she was still smiling, much to Daelan's discomfort.

"Okay, Boss, question number four. When crazy mage builds his tower deeper and deeper, what does he finds?"

Emily ignored Deekin's question as she solidly struck Daelan's axe. "You like her, don't you?" she asked the barbarian, though she was confident of the answer.

Daelan stepped back and dropped his eyes. "Of course I like her. I wouldn't choose to travel with her if I did not."

Emily laughed. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. I've watched the way you're always looking at her, rushing to attend to her every possible need—"

Daelan swung his axe at her, forcing the cleric to quickly parry. _I didn't think we'd moved on to defensive maneuvers_, she thought as she watched the half-orc try to compose himself. "I do those things because I feel responsible for her. I… I feel like I let her down during the ambush. I'm the warrior of our group. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed to do so. It is my fault that she died, and I will never allow her to be in that kind of danger again. I have to keep her safe…" Daelan's voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Emily regarded the forlorn half-orc for a moment. She shook her head, shouldered Enserric, and swung, hitting the barbarian squarely on the side of the head. He roared in pain, and Enserric screamed, "NOT WITH THE FLAT SIDE, YOU FOOL!"

Daelan rubbed his head and glared at the cleric. "What was that for?" he growled.

Emily shrugged, refusing to be intimidated by his obvious anger. "I was just doing what Sharwyn would do if she heard that speech." Daelan looked confused, so she went on. "Sharwyn is a very confident woman, yes?" Daelan nodded. "That's what I thought. Something tells me that she wouldn't take kindly to being thought of as a weak little woman who can't look after herself. I know I definitely wouldn't."

The half-orc was taken aback. "I… I didn't mean it like that. I've watched her in action; she's an excellent bard who's saved my life more than once. I know she can look after herself. I just… I just don't want her to get hurt, that's all."

Emily sighed and reached up to put her hand on the tall barbarian's shoulder. "I know that you mean well, Daelan. And I'm sure once Sharwyn thought it over, she would realize it, too. Everyone likes to know that they've got a friend watching their back. Just… maybe try to be less obvious about it. Let her get a couple of scratches and scrapes so she doesn't feel like you're keeping her inside a glass case of safety. One thing I've learned about bards is that they hate not being a part of the action."

"Boss gots that right!" said Deekin, looking up from his book.

Daelan eyed the kobold narrowly. "Have you been writing down everything we've been saying just now?"

"Pretty much. Deekin just wonderings… when half-orc looks at bard lady, does he like what he sees?"

"Yes, of course," said Daelan, surprised at the question. When Emily began to snicker, he blushed fiercely. "I mean no, not like that," he said quickly. "That is… look, I'm just glad she's okay. Can't you just leave it at that, Deekin?"

Deekin grinned mischievously. "Deekin makes no promises. Deekin must follows his muse."

Daelan rolled his head back and gazed up at the ceiling. "In that case, may the gods help us all." He put his axe aside and began to settle in for the night.

Emily sat down next to Deekin's throne, Enserric in hand, ready to take the first watch. "The answer was dwarven mines, by the way," she said to Deekin, finally answering his fourth question.

"Boss wins again! Deekin is very impressed by how much Boss remembers."

Enserric coughed loudly. "Yes, because the knowledge that Undermountain was built on the ruins of dwarven mines will be _so_ impressive to the giant ogre barreling down on you that he will stop in his tracks and bow before your great wisdom…"

Emily shoved the sword deep into her pack and picked up her mace instead. _I'm really going to need to find a sheath for that thing_, she thought darkly as she surveyed the room. _Otherwise this is going to be a very long adventure…_


	9. Part I, Ch 9: Secrets RevealedConcealed

Part I—Chapter 9: Secrets Revealed and Secrets Concealed

Emily looked around in frustration. She was standing in the living quarters of Olgin Hasterean, a powerful ogre mage who had surrendered quite readily when confronted by her and her companions. Daelan was currently talking with him, commiserating over misconceptions they had both faced in their lifetimes. Deekin was attempting to quietly rummage through Hasterean's vast library, but his efforts were thwarted when a large pile of books came crashing down on his head. This commotion earned the kobold a glare from Sharwyn, who was in the process of painting a picture (a self-portrait, naturally) on a nearby easel.

Emily crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. She wasn't unhappy to see her friends enjoying themselves—after all their running around they certainly deserved a rest—but she herself was unable to relax due to the fact that she had no idea where they were going to go next. They had traipsed all over the main part of the level, the southern realm of the fairy queen Grovel had rambled on about, and now this northern section populated by ogres; in their journeying they had found no sign of either Linu or Tomi, and they had failed to find any way down to the lower levels of the dungeon. Emily knew that there had to be more to Undermountain than they had yet discovered, and she hated standing still without having a plan. Finally, she could take it no longer and marched over to Hasterean and Daelan.

The half-orc was sighing in response to something the ogre had said. "A story I am very familiar with. All too familiar, I'm afraid." He noticed Emily's head at his shoulder and looked down at her curiously. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked her.

Emily quickly realized that she was frowning angrily and forced herself to smile and hide her impatience. "No, Daelan, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I was hoping to ask Sir Hasterean a few questions."

The ogre bowed before her. "My resources are at your disposal, fair lady," he said in his unusually cultured tone. "And please, call me Olgin." He bared his teeth in a rather frightening smile.

Emily tried her best not to recoil from the ogre's painful attempts to be hospitable and said, quite sincerely, "I appreciate the efforts you've gone to to make us feel welcome, Olgin, particularly since we nearly killed you…" Olgin nodded as if this were a pleasant memory. "We really should be moving on now, though," Emily continued, "and I was hoping you could point us in the right direction. The fairy sorceress mentioned that there used to be a flight of stairs near her home, but she said you had moved them some time ago—"

"I was not the one who moved them, no indeed," Olgin cut in. "Halaster himself moved them, just as he moves everything else in this dungeon."

"You do know the stairs I'm talking about, though?" Emily asked hopefully.

"Yes, my lady, I do. I am afraid I have bad news for you, however: the tunnel is collapsed. During one of my battles with the Fairy Queen's forces a spell I unleashed caved it in, sealing it with tons of rock."

The cleric's face fell. "So not only do we not know where the stairs are, we won't be able to get to them even if we find them…" she murmured.

Olgin rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "I suppose you could blast your way through the debris," he said slowly. "Yes, that might be possible…"

Sharwyn looked up from her painting in shock. "You cannot be serious! Are you honestly suggesting we set off an explosion that could very likely bring Waterdeep down on our heads?" Deekin, who had finally extricated himself from his literary avalanche, instinctively covered his own head, not ready to have more things falling on it.

The ogre mage waved aside the bard's concerns. "No, no, not at all. If you are careful to put the ingredients together in the right mixtures, there's an excellent chance the explosion could be controlled. I'm fairly confident it won't kill you!" He smiled his disturbing smile again, which did little to reassure his audience.

Daelan looked at Emily sadly. "Well, I suppose we can always go back to the center and try to figure out what to do with those colored blocks…"

"No!" screamed Emily. "No puzzles!" The others appeared startled by her outburst, and she tried not to blush. "Look, I just don't do well with puzzles. Riddles I'm fine with, just not puzzles… We'll find the staircase, I just know we will! We just need to find a section of wall that looks like it's been caved in recently…"

The cleric hoped she didn't look as helpless as she sounded, but she was mercifully spared from having to ponder that thought for too long by Deekin suddenly pointing at the wall behind her and saying, "Like that wall, Boss?"

Everyone turned to look at the section of wall Deekin indicated, and all were amazed to see that it did indeed look like it had been damaged not too long ago. Emily smiled a real smile for what felt like the first time in ages and said, "Exactly like that wall, Deekin!" She ran over to it and tried to shove her hands into the crevices. When that failed to move the rocks, she unsheathed Enserric to attempt to use the sword as leverage. Enserric took one moment to mystically understand the situation and said simply, "No."

Emily glared at the blade. "It wouldn't hurt to try," she reasoned.

"Yes, actually, it would," Enserric retorted, "so I repeat, again, 'No.' Have I made myself clear enough for you?"

The cleric rolled her eyes and shoved the sword back into her belt. "Daelan," she called over her shoulder, "I think we're going to need that keg of alchemist's fire after all!"

Daelan nodded and put down his pack wherein the fifty pound keg of explosives resided. As he searched the pack's contents, Sharwyn sauntered over to him. "I thought you might like this…" she cooed as she placed her painting directly in Daelan's line of sight. The beautiful bard had created quite a good likeness of herself from the waist up, though the figure in the painting displayed a distinct lack of… clothing.

Daelan choked and immediately looked away. Sharwyn laughed happily at him. "Enjoy!" she sang, and she sashayed away to join Emily at the wall. Daelan sliently fumed as he watched her walk away. When he was confident she was out of earshot, he quickly crumpled the painting up and shoved it into his cloak pocket before resuming his search for the alchemist's fire.

Olgin walked over to join the inspection of the wall. "Am I correct in assuming that you intend to blow the wall up?" he asked Emily.

"Yes, indeed," the cleric replied. "There doesn't seem to be another way."

"Ah, well, then I should probably be going…"

"Hang on, Olgin; I thought you said this would be safe as long as it's controlled!"

"Yes, well, it _should_ be safe. I am a cautious fellow myself, however, so I am going to make sure I am far away from here." Emily seemed about to protest, but Olgin quickly waved her comment away. "Thank you for my life, my dear honorable Emily Emeraude. Best of luck to you in this twisted labyrinth of death!" With one last unsettling smile, the ogre mage teleported away.

"Well, that was less than encouraging," Sharwyn muttered.

"It's not as though we really have any other choice, though," Emily said, trying to stay positive. "Have you found the keg yet, Daelan?"

"I have it right here," replied the barbarian, setting the keg down in front of the wall. "How are we going to light it?"

As he, Emily, and Sharwyn considered the best and safest way to set the fuse, Deekin walked up to get a closer look at the keg. Some of the powder had escaped from the barrel, however, and when Deekin leaned forward some got into his snout. "Ahh… ahhh… aaahhhh… CHOO!" Deekin sneezed, and out of his mouth shot a small tongue of flames.

"Blast it, the kobold's set the fuse!" cried Sharwyn, hastily backing away from the soon-to-be exploding keg.

"Look out," yelled Daelan as he tried to shield the bard from the impending blast.

"I didn't know you could breathe fire!" Emily said with raised eyebrows, oblivious to the chaos that was about to engulf her.

"Ducks, Boss!" Deekin screamed as he flung himself behind the cleric's shield. Emily looked around her and saw no ducks, but she did finally see the lit fuse. She opened her mouth to scream, but any sound she made was drowned out by the catastrophic boom of tons of rock flying into space.

* * *

Emily sat on the ground, her arms and legs crossed, her brown eyes fixed on the kobold sitting across from her. Even without her eyebrows, which had unfortunately been burned off in the explosion, it was obvious to all that she was glaring. The blast had successfully broken through the wall, and the stairs down were thankfully unblocked. Upon reaching the next level, Sharwyn had discovered a secret door that led to a hidden treasure chamber. Since there were no other entrances to the room, they had decided to make camp for the night to recuperate… and discus the particulars of what had just transpired. Emily was silent for a long time before finally sighing. "You should have told me earlier, Deekin," she said as evenly as she could.

Little Deekin hung his head. "Deekin knows, Boss. Deekin just worrieds because Deekin not knows where this could leads…"

Daelan cleared his throat. "If I may…?" he asked Emily cautiously. The cleric nodded, so the barbarian continued. "This feeling you've described, Deekin, of your heart beating fast when you're fighting and how that makes you feel stronger… that sounds very similar to how I feel when I am enraged. It is very common among barbarians of all races. Maybe that's what is happening to you?"

Deekin considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. "But Deekin not a barbarian, Deekin just most famous kobold bard."

Emily had to smirk a little at Deekin's continued self-promotion. "I don't think Daelan's suggesting you switch careers, Deekin," she said, a little kinder this time. "What he means is that this sudden strength you feel is nothing to worry about. It's probably connected to your dragon blood somehow, but I'm sure it's perfectly safe. Now, the fire breathing, on the other hand…"

"Deekin tries to control that better, Boss, Deekin promise. Deekin be very sorry about Boss's hair…"

Confused by this remark, Emily reached up to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. To her dismay, the hair fell into her hand as soon as she touched it. The cleric gazed at it in disbelief as Sharwyn stepped in.

"You know, Deekin," the bard began, absently running a hand through the silky red hair that was still firmly attached to her head, "perhaps there is a way you can learn how to command your inner flames. I've heard legends about cults of dragon disciples that worship their wyrm masters so fervently that they take on some draconian characteristics. Maybe if you studied their practices, you could learn how to focus and amplify your growing powers!"

Deekin's eyes went wide at this news, and he eagerly turned back to his boss. "Oooo! That sounds like good idea, doesn't it, Boss? Though, it be up to you, of course. Deekin do what you tells him to. If you wants Deekin to just be faithful bard, instead, Deekin do that and be happy."

Emily looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, Deekin, I can't tell you what to do, not about something like this! You should follow whichever path will make _you_ happy. Sharwyn can certainly handle the bard duties on her own if you want to explore this discipleship for a while."

Sharwyn nodded her agreement, and Deekin jumped up happily. "Okay, Boss! Deekin work on being dragon disciple for now and, ummm, maybe goes back to being bard later? If it nots work out?"

"That sounds fine, Deekin. Now why don't you all get some rest? I'll take first watch."

Deekin was the first to fall asleep, apparently exhausted from his earlier pyrotechnics. Daelan dozed off quickly, too, inexplicably clutching a balled up piece of paper in his hands. Emily leaned against the wall and stared forlornly at the red curl on her palm until Sharwyn came and sat next to her.

"You know, Emily, it really doesn't look all that bad…" The beautiful bard smiled weakly.

Emily laughed harshly. "Really, Sharwyn, that's the best you've got? I thought you were supposed to have a way with words."

Sharwyn rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you valued honesty, priestess. Gods know Linu never seems to shut up about it…." Her voice trailed off as she mentioned the missing elf's name.

Emily placed a comforting hand on the bard's arm. "We're going to find her, Sharwyn. And Tomi, too. I promise."

Sharwyn looked at the cleric in surprise. "Huh. I think I actually believe you."

"As well you should. I have a rather infuriating habit of keeping my word. Drives my less morally upright friends crazy."

The bard smiled. "I have no trouble believing that." She looked at her friend appraisingly. "It's quite possible that your little cosmetic situation here isn't entirely hopeless…" She reached down to the hem of her dark green nymph's cloak and cut off a strip about a couple of inches thick. She motioned the cleric to lean forward and tied it around her head like a kerchief, covering the singed hair around her face. Sharwyn took an exaggerated breath. "Emily, my dear, you look even more beautiful than before!"

Emily scoffed as she ran a hand over the silky smooth cloak fragment. "How is that even possible?"

"Charisma charms, darling. Arcane magic isn't just for fireballs, you know." She winked and got up to return to her bedroll. "Besides, green really is your color."

Emily smiled as she thought of the growing collection of emeralds in her pack. Thanks to the discovery of this treasure room, she was now up to three. She leaned back against the wall, twirling the tied-off ends of the head scarf between her fingers. Before she knew it, she was falling asleep…

* * *

_She was dreaming of her family farm. She and her little sister Demetra were racing across the field, past a dozen uninterested cows. They were laughing like children. They were children. Emily had not yet left for Hilltop._

_Demetra tried her best, but Emily had always been the most athletic of the four. The future heroine looked over her shoulder to see how far behind her sister was, but she was startled to find herself neck-and-neck with… a flesh golem?_

_"Aaaaaahhhh!" the golem screamed. Emily stopped and watched him run past her, and her farm faded away to be slowly replaced by the halls of Undermountain. The golem ran up to a well of water surrounded by four hanging colored chains. He gestured with his hands, and the chains disappeared. Then he ran into the next room._

_"Don't let him close the door!" cried a voice from behind her. Emily turned and was shocked to find she was being yelled at by a drow. He ran up next to her and cursed under his breath. "The Valsharess will be most displeased if we don't recover those chains…" he muttered._

_At the mention of the Valsharess, Emily felt her pulse begin to quicken. This was no ordinary dream. This was another warning. But from whom? And why?_

_The drow glared at her and pointed at the door. "Don't just stand there! Try and open that door."_

_"Wait, what were you saying about the Valsharess?" Emily asked anxiously. The drow looked at her strangely, not comprehending her question. Before he had a chance to respond, they were distracted by a shout from another drow: "Captain, that goblin has a chain!"_

_Emily and the captain looked across a wide chasm to see a little goblin running away from two drow crossbowmen. He appeared to be clutching something to his chest. As he fled past the bridge connecting their platform to the rest of the level, he screamed over his shoulder, "Get away! It's mine, mine! My brother Ugtump said I could keep da yellow chainsie!"_

_The drow captain immediately joined the pursuit, but Emily stayed where she was and watched the goblin run. He was heading for a door that looked somehow familiar…_

* * *

Emily sprang to her feet, suddenly wide awake. She needed to get to that goblin before the drow did. "Wake up, wake up!" she cried as she unsheathed Enserric.

Daelan quickly shook himself alert. "What is wrong, Emily?" he asked, confused by the cleric's panicked state.

"Drow! Two of them—umm, I think…" Emily bit her lip as she tried to figure out how she could explain what she knew without telling her friends _how_ she knew what she knew. She shook her head, deciding to kill first and answer questions later. "I can hear them coming, let's go!" She pushed open the secret door and jumped out into the hallway.

Sharwyn shouldered her bow, her head cocked as she focused on listening. "I don't hear anything… Do you, Daelan?"

The barbarian shook his head, but both dutifully followed their leader out of their hideout.

"Umm, Boss?" Deekin asked, rushing to be at his mistress's side. "Why is we running _into_ the danger? Wouldn't it be better for us to stay hiding, maybe?"

Emily looked back as she turned the corner. "We can't afford to hide, Deekin. We need to get to that gob—"

The word died on her lips as the real thing died before her, shot in the back by a crossbow bolt. The drow who fired it smiled at Emily in satisfaction. Then he realized he was smiling at a very angry human with a very loud sword.

"I love the taste of elf blood in the morning!" Enserric cried happily as Emily charged ahead, swinging with considerably more precision after a few days of practice. Daelan was right behind her, and the battle was joined.

These drow were far more skilled than the ones they had previously faced, constantly disappearing into the shadows to lick their wounds. Sharwyn slew the first one with an arrow through the eye when his gaze lingered on her a little too long. The second drow's death, however, could almost be called an accident. Deekin was racing to Emily's side, muttering the Mage Armor incantation as he ran, but he ventured too close to the shadowy walls and bumped right into the drow crossbowman. The kobold had been barreling at such a fast pace that his momentum was enough to knock the drow forward. Deekin screamed, out of shock or fear he couldn't be sure, and Emily whipped around, Enserric in hand. As a result, the unlucky drow fell straight onto her pointed sword.

Emily looked with distaste at the corpse of the man she had unwittingly speared. "How am I supposed to get him off?" she asked Daelan.

The half-orc smirked, took the sword, and forcefully separated body from blade. He handed Enserric back to her. "Like that," he said simply.

Emily regarded her sword as if it were diseased. "You know, that wouldn't have been a problem if you were a mace," she told him.

"Oh, really?" Enserric drawled. "The cleric gets queasy at the sight of blood? Honestly, woman, you call yourself a healer. Why, if I still had my body—"

Whatever else the sword was going to say was silenced by Emily shoving it forcefully into its sheath. She dusted herself off and walked over to where Deekin was examining the goblin's corpse.

As she approached, the kobold picked up a yellow chain. "Shoulds Deekin be keeping this, Boss?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes!" Emily cried, a little too quickly.

Sharwyn's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want a worthless old chain? It doesn't appear to be magical, so no merchant in his right mind would give you any money for it."

Emily bit her lip again, trying not to quake under the bard's scrutinizing gaze. "It must be important. I mean, we are in Undermountain, after all. This is just the sort of unassuming artifact that Halaster would make sure was essential to our progress. That mad old mage! Ha, ha, ha!" she laughed nervously.

Sharwyn threw up her arms. "It's all yours, then," she said airily. She watched closely as the cleric snatched the chain out of Deekin's hands and placed it carefully in her pack. _Her head's probably still a little fuzzy from the explosion_, the bard thought. Sharwyn told herself this had to be the reason why Emily was acting so strange, but try as she might, she couldn't make herself believe it.


	10. Part I, Ch 10: Beauty and the Beast

Part I—Chapter 10: Beauty and the Beast... and the Halfling

"Deekin still not understands why Boss be wearing green cloth thing."

Emily rolled her eyes. "I assure you, Deekin, it's highly beneficial to me."

The kobold briefly poked his head into a nearby barrel, but he was disappointed to find it empty. He resumed his interrogation. "Deekin not sees how, Boss. It's not a helmet, so it not offers much in the way of protection."

The cleric pulled the lid off of the box standing next to her. "It may not offer physical protection, I'll grant you that, but it is magical."

"Deekin knows that, Boss. But all green cloth thing does is make Boss look teensy bit pretty. Not very useful, Deekin thinks."

Emily slammed the box lid back down. "And what's wrong with looking pretty?" she snapped.

Deekin considered this for a moment. "There be nothing wrong, maybe. It just be, umm… well, if Boss wearing Magical Green Cloth Thing of Wisdom, Deekin understands that because Boss is cleric and clerics needs lots of wisdom. But Boss not needs be pretty to be good cleric. Boss can be ugly as ugliest kobold—and Deekin knows lots of ugly kobolds—but even if Boss that ugly, Boss still be legendary cleric if Boss be really wise. So… Deekin is asking why Boss not wears helmet or something more wisdomy insteads."

Emily wound a finger tightly around one of her few remaining curls. "You see, Deekin," she began slowly, "I have a lot of wisdom already. I wouldn't be a cleric at all if I didn't. And I also have finally found some pretty decent armor and a very sturdy shield, so I feel pretty safe from a physical standpoint. Using my wisdom to help me, I have decided that it would be more useful for me to wear something on my head that augments one of my deficiencies instead of adding to one of my strengths. And recent events have led me to feel rather deficient in—" her hand clenched into a protective fist around her hair "—prettiness. So you're right Deekin. That is exactly why I am wearing the green cloth thing. To look a teensy bit prettier."

"Ooooohhh," said Deekin, light dawning on his face. "Deekin understands now. This be about Boss's hair catching on fire."

Emily sighed and raised her hands to the heavens. "Yes, Deekin, this is about Boss's hair catching on fire. Now that we've established that, we should really move on."

After dispatching of the drow chasing the unfortunate goblin, Emily and her companions had ventured a little farther into Undermountain's second level. They had gazed from afar at the well Emily had seen in her dream, and though she had tried to remain calm, she had thought she caught Sharwyn looking at her strangely out of the corner of her eye. At Daelan's suggestion, they had decided to turn south and examine the area for clues to their missing friends' whereabouts. So far, all they had found were a few now-dead drow.

Deekin stepped over one of these drow as he followed the cleric. "Deekin confused about something else now, Boss. Deekin not understands why humans be so obsessed with hair. Maybe that because Deekin has no hair, but Old Master not has hair either, and Old Master be very handsome dragon. At least, that what Old Master always says, Deekin not really have much to compare him to…"

Daelan put a firm hand on Deekin's shoulder. "You're waging a losing battle here, little kobold," he said solemnly. "It has been my experience that women of the non-monstrous races tend to be fiercely protective of their hair, like a mother wolf guarding her young. Since your boss appears to fall into this category, I would advise you not to provoke her."

Emily whirled around, thoroughly provoked. "I am insulted, Daelan, that you would think I am that shallow! I am not some vain girl who can't resist gazing into every mirror she passes to make sure her appearance is just so! No offense, Sharwyn," she muttered with a glance at the bard.

Sharwyn looked up from where she had been leaning over to adjust her cloak in the reflection from Emily's shield. "None taken!" she said lightly, beaming at them all with her beautiful smile.

Emily tried not to stare at the lustrous waves of red hair falling around the bard's face and cleared her throat. "I am Emily Emeraude, adventurer of legend, and I do not need to be beautiful to be a legend!" She paused to fix the others with what she hoped was a look of extreme confidence. "That being said," she continued more softly, "if I choose to wear equipment that improves my physical appearance without providing any additional adventuring benefits whatsoever, I am perfectly within my rights to do so, and I will not. Be. Judged. Is that clear?"

Deekin and Daelan nodded quickly. Sharwyn had ceased paying attention, once more entranced by her own face. Satisfied, Emily turned around. "Now, let's see what's on the other side of this door, shall we?" But before she laid a hand on the door, she heard voices coming from the other side.

Emily quickly put a finger to her lips, and in a moment all four had the sides of their heads pressed against the wooden surface.

"Commander," the first voice said, "we have found the green chain."

"Excellent," said the second voice, presumably the commander. "We still need to find the other three if we're going to make it past that blasted golem's puzzle."

"Ha!" Emily whispered excitedly. "I knew that yellow chain would be important."

"Yes, you certainly did, didn't you," Sharwyn muttered behind her. Judging from her sarcastic tone, Emily's pronouncement hadn't done much to allay the bard's suspicions. _Well, now that the chain business is common knowledge, hopefully she won't bring it up again, _Emily thought desperately._ I really don't want to get into the whole mysterious vision thing right now. _The cleric cast a quick look behind her and was dismayed to see Daelan looking at her with narrowed eyes. _Oh, great, Daelan, too? That's just wonderful…_

"Well, what are you standing around for?" asked the commander from the next room. "Go find the other chains!"

"Yes, sir!" replied the other drow. Deekin stepped back from the door and loaded his crossbow. "It be time for battle, Boss!" he cried, and Daelan smashed the door with his axe.

The drow chain seeker looked at them in surprise, only to get a crossbow bolt to the face from Deekin. Emily stabbed him with Enserric for good measure, and the four rushed into the room to face the drow commander. The commander took one look at the charging adventurers, muttered a few quick words, and disappeared.

"Damn, we've lost him!" growled Daelan, fighting to control his rage now that his target was gone. He, Emily, and Sharwyn stopped in their tracks, trying to listen for any signs of life. This task was made considerably more difficult by Deekin's singing.

"DOOM-DOOM-DOOM DOOM!" the kobold wailed as he followed the other three into the room. He was singing a cappella at the moment and frantically trying to pull his lute out of his pack on the run. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking forward while he was running, and he very nearly ran straight into Daelan's back. The barbarian saw him coming and jumped out of the way as Deekin raced past, but to his surprise, he did not land on stone.

A disembodied voice began screaming curses in drow. The poor commander could hardly be expected to do any less after an exceptionally large half-orc stepped on his toe. Sharwyn laughed as she pulled her bowstring taut. "I think you've found him, Daelan!"

As she and Daelan went to work on the commander, Emily watched as Deekin ran full speed into a stack of crates. Shaking her head, she rushed over and helped her kobold friend up. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asked as she dusted him off.

"Not Deekin, Boss! Deekin ready for battle! DOOM-DOOM-DOOM DOOM!" he sang, lute in hand this time. Emily smiled and joined Daelan in swinging wildly at the still-invisible commander.

"No, you fool!" Enserric yelled after one of Emily's swings. "What are you doing? Can't you see he's to your left?"

"No," replied Emily, puzzled. "Can you?"

"Of course I can!" cried the sword. "I am Enserric the Grey, see-er of all, slayer of all that I see, which is _everyone_! MWUAHAHAHAHA!"

"Well then, quit your boasting and tell me where to swing!" Emily snapped. Enserric complied with minimal grumbling, and with his help the drow commander was soon slain.

Satisfied that the drow was dead, Emily returned to the pile of crates Deekin had knocked over. Something in the rubble had caught her eye… There, a small purple bottle with markings in a language she couldn't understand. She picked it up and eyed it carefully. _Whatever it is, it must be magical,_ she thought. _It's certainly exotic-looking, at least. I wonder…_ She peered closer. _Is it glowing? It's definitely magical if it's glowing!_

She turned around to ask Deekin if he could detect any unusual light source in the vicinity, but she was surprised to find herself face-to-face with Sharwyn instead. The bard was looking even more smug than usual. In her hand was a green chain.

"I can't believe I beat you to this," she said with a sweetness so false it was beyond even her power to mask. "I mean, after the fight you put up to get the yellow one… and I know you much prefer the color green…"

Emily frowned and fought to maintain her composure. "I must have missed it," she said, her voice barely controlled. "Thank you for bringing it to me." She reached out to take the chain, but Sharwyn snatched it back out of reach.

"Ah, ah, ah, my dear priestess," the bard teased, though her harsh face belied her light tone. "You owe me an explanation."

Emily took a deep breath and tried to think of an appropriate stalling tactic when she was once again saved by the unwitting antics of Deekin. The kobold had ventured across the room and found something in the shadows far more interesting than a colored chain.

"Deekin finds dead halfling, Boss! This be halfling Boss be looking for, maybe?"

Daelan, who had been watching the standoff between the two women closely, quickly rushed to Deekin's side. "I'd recognize that rogue anywhere," he said with a grim smile.

"Tomi!" Sharwyn cried, all thoughts of chains pushed from her mind by the sight of her missing friend. In an instant, she was kneeling by Tomi's body, examining his wounds closely. "He appears to have been stabbed in the chest a few times. Is that going to be a problem, Emily?"

The cleric shook her head as she pulled out some bandages. "Trust me, I've seen worse," she said simply and began cleaning the deep gashes. That task completed, she closed her eyes and cast her spell of resurrection.

The halfling blinked several times and eventually stared at Emily with wide and incredulous eyes. Emily stared back. She was worried that she would startle him, and she didn't want a repeat of Sharwyn's near murder of Deekin. She tried a smile and was relieved when Tomi smiled back.

"Well, I'll be a nekkid monkey's uncle," he said happily, much happier than most of the recently deceased people Emily had encountered. "Did I die again?"

"It appears so," Emily said with a laugh. "This a common occurrence for you?"

"That's one way of puttin' it, aye," Tomi replied. "One of these days I'm goin' to bloody well piss off them dead gods for teasin' them all th' time." He looked at her and blinked again. "Say, you look familiar," he said slowly.

"I should. I talked to you in the inn, when you were with your friends." Emily had told Sharwyn and Daelan to stay quiet until she indicated otherwise so Tomi wouldn't be overwhelmed with trying to place familiar faces.

Tomi's eyes narrowed, and then he blinked again. "Right, right. And you, umm… you're the daughter of that fella who runs the inn, ain'tcha? What was yer name again?"

Emily was instantly hit with the memory of being unable to recall Durnan's daughter's name when she was attacked all those nights ago, and it pained her to realize that she still could not do so. "T, I know it starts with a T…" she muttered under her breath.

"Well, I'm guessin' that's not you since ya can't remember yer own name, aye?"

"Oh, no! I'm not the innkeeper's daughter. My name is Emily Emeraude."

"Oh, right, the famous one," Tomi said, and he slowly pushed himself up against the wall. Emily considered pushing him back down, but he seemed to be recovering much quicker than the other two. Maybe that was a byproduct of dying so often. "Well," he continued, "I guess it don't get much better than bein' saved by a professional, aye? Thanks a bunch. That was real swell of ya."

"Any time," Emily said automatically.

"Ha, be careful what ya wish for. Ya might have just found yerself a new permanent occupation." He stretched his arms up high and looked around. His eyes came to rest on Sharwyn and Daelan, the bard's hands tightly clutching the barbarian's. "Hey, glad to see you two again! Good to know all four of us made it, then."

"'All four of us'?" Sharwyn asked quickly. "Linu's alive?"

"Sure she's alive, her little heart bloody bleedin' all over the place, as usual." Tomi sighed. "I suppose you'll all be wantin' the whole story, then. Well, here goes…"

The halfling told them how he and Linu had stumbled down to this floor while they were fleeing from the drow and had found a group of human slaves. These slaves believed the drow commander had a djinni that could activate a magic portal that would allow them to escape, and Linu had charged a reluctant Tomi with retrieving the djinni's bottle. Tomi, however, had taken his thievery a bit too far.

"Ya see, I was tryin' to steal their jewelry while they was still wearin' it. A challenging feat, but I've done it before! Them elves got ears like ya wouldn't believe, though, and that led to the stabbing." He rubbed his chest absently. "You sure there's no holes left, still?"

Deekin looked up from his writing and poked at Tomi's chest with his quill feather. "Deekin not thinks so. Boss does excellent job of fixing you up!"

"Hey, that tickles!" Tomi whined as he swatted the quill away. His eyes narrowed when he saw the quill's owner. "Oh, no, you're here?" he asked, apparently having no difficulty remembering Deekin.

"Of course Deekin be here. Deekin be Boss's faithful kobold companion! Where else woulds Deekin be?"

Tomi rolled his eyes and got shakily to his feet. "Well, I guess I better be showin' ya where Linu's at, aye? Assumin' ya got room for a smart-mouthed halfling in your entourage?" he said with a wink at Emily.

"Welcome aboard," Emily winked back.

Sharwyn began fussing over Tomi's lack of supplies, though fortunately he wasn't nearly as picked clean as she and Daelan had been. While the bard was otherwise occupied, Emily slyly reached into her companion's pack and pulled out the green chain. _Two down, two to go, and no explanations necessary… for now._

* * *

They had made it back to the center section of the dungeon before the effects of Tomi's recent death caught up with him. After the halfling tripped over Deekin for the third time, Emily called for a rest on the pretext that she was exhausted after performing the resurrection. Tomi's protests to soldier on were silenced the instant his head hit his makeshift pillow. Sharwyn offered to take first watch, and Deekin and Daelan soon joined Tomi in slumber.

Emily, however, found that, although she truthfully was quite tired, she could not fall asleep so easily. She lay on the hard stone staring out across the bridge at the magical well. Just looking at it, and feeling the two chains under her head, made her uneasy. Once again, some mystical presence was protecting her and guiding her. She knew she should be grateful, but she was no longer the naïve student of Hilltop Adventuring Academy. She had learned that beings with supernatural powers rarely helped mere mortals out of the goodness of their hearts. Something would be expected of her in return for this aid, but without knowing who was aiding her Emily could not even begin to guess what that something would be. Or if she would be willing to do it.

Her ruminations making her increasingly frustrated, she angrily rolled over so she could no longer see the well. Instead, she found herself looking straight into Sharwyn's big brown eyes. She quickly clamped her eyes shut tight, hoping against hope that the bard hadn't noticed.

"Good, you're awake," Sharwyn whispered softly.

"No, I'm really not," Emily whispered back. She knew she was conceding defeat by speaking, but she stubbornly refused to open her eyes. It was a tactic she had employed many times with her sisters when they were growing up to get them to leave her alone. Sadly, it rarely worked.

"Come, come, priestess, sit up," said Sharwyn, refusing to back down. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

Emily moaned as she pushed herself to her knees. "Look, Sharwyn, if it's about the chains—"

"No, no, I've decided to let that go for the time being." Emily looked at her suspiciously. "I'm being serious," Sharwyn insisted. "As long as you keep raising my friends from the dead, you can keep as many secrets as you please."

Emily sighed with relief. Inwardly, however, she began to wish that Sharwyn's friends would keep dying so she never had to talk about her visions. That, of course, brought on an enormous load of guilt that no simple _Lathander, forgive me_ was going to fix. She fought back a wince brought on by this internal turmoil and asked, "Why do you want to talk to me, then?"

Sharwyn looked at the ground and mumbled, "I need your advice, Emily." Emily stared at the bard in surprised silence until Sharwyn reluctantly added, "About men."

Emily choked on the laugh rising in her throat. Thankfully, the others were too sound asleep to notice, though Emily could have sworn she saw Deekin flinch. When she had sufficiently composed herself, she asked the now-blushing bard, "Are you kidding? _You_, the most beautiful bard in the Ten Towns, asking _me_, the mildly attractive farm girl-turned-cleric with a short but disastrous romantic history, about _men_?"

"Well, my options are rather limited down here, wouldn't you say?" Sharwyn huffed.

"I don't know. Are you sure you wouldn't rather ask Deekin? I'm sure he knows plenty of epic romances that can provide you with more guidance than I ever could. Plus, he's guaranteed to make you laugh! Or make you hungry with his constant talk of dessert…"

"As charming as Deekin is, he's still a bard, and one thing you can always count on is that a bard will never keep a secret that's good enough to be shared. And Tomi's just as bad when it comes to gossip. No, Emily, it has to be you because you're the only one I can trust."

Emily's stomach grumbled rather loudly. Sharwyn looked as though the sound caused her physical pain. The cleric smiled awkwardly. "What can I say; just talking about Deekin talking about food makes me hungry!" As she turned to get a stale roll out of her pack she asked, "What about Daelan? You trust him, don't you?"

"Of course I trust Daelan, but I can't very well talk to him about this… which you know perfectly well," Sharwyn snapped, her eyes narrowing as Emily's smile widened.

"Alright, so I know. I'd have to have been blind not to notice you flirting with him. But I'm still at a loss as to why you need my help. This is kind of your area of expertise, isn't it?"

"Well, ordinarily, yes, but…" Sharwyn hesitated. "This isn't exactly an ordinary situation…"

Emily tore a chunk out of her bread, nearly leaving a few of her teeth behind, and considered her plan of action. She'd had enough conversations like this with her sisters to know that they were usually lengthy and pointless, keeping her awake longer than she wanted to be and ultimately resolving nothing. Time management was crucial, but she also didn't want to seem rude or dismissive. It was a fine line to walk. Keeping in mind that bards had a tendency to draw things out forever, she decided on a direct approach. "Are you in love with him?"

"No! I mean, not yet. I suppose there's always the possibility that I could fall in love with him sometime in the future…"

"So what you're saying is that your feelings for Daelan are more serious than you're used to."

"No, no, that's not it. I mean, I do have strong feelings for him, but it's not like I've never loved a man before, you know that, I've told you—"

"Yes, you did, I remember," Emily cut in quickly. _No need to revisit past loves, Sharwyn, just stick to the present one, please?_ Emily chewed silently for a moment—the bread was so hard it was taking a while to moisten up in her mouth—and then she asked, "What makes Daelan different, then?"

"What makes Daelan different?" Sharwyn repeated, as though the answer were completely obvious. She laughed her melodious laugh—of which Emily was secretly quite jealous—and said, "Emily, what makes him different is that he is completely unlike any man I've ever met! You see, the kinds of men I am usually attracted to are incredibly handsome—well, obviously I often have a selection to pick from, so I always choose the incredibly handsome ones, ha ha!"

She laughed again and tossed her long, flowing hair. Emily sullenly tightened her head scarf and attempted to swallow her dinner. Her failure to do so was accompanied by choking. _Nope, still too dry._ She motioned Sharwyn to continue as she tried to clear her throat, and the half-hearted gesture was all the encouragement the bard needed.

"As I was saying, all of my previous lovers were paragons of male beauty"—_Of course you'd repeat that!_ Emily mentally snapped—"but they were also very… self-centered, I suppose you could say. Not really interested in a relationship, didn't want to be tied down, that sort of thing. You know the kind of men I mean, right, Emily?"

Emily tried to nod, but this was rather difficult since she was frantically chugging water from her canteen. Whether Sharwyn implicitly understood the cleric's agreement or simply didn't care in the first place, the bard continued on.

"But Daelan is the complete opposite of all of that. While his physical prowess certainly makes him desirable, you cannot deny his orcish heritage. He is simply not handsome. And yet… his heart is nobler than that of any human man I've ever known. His appearance is at first frightening, but the kindness that radiates from his eyes is so soothing, I—" She stopped herself and dropped her eyes. "Emily, I just don't know what to do."

The bread had finally, after much effort, reached Emily's stomach, and now it was bedtime for the exhausted cleric. "Look, Sharwyn, I just don't see what the problem is. You like Daelan. Maybe you don't know why you like him, but why does that matter? Perhaps the contradiction between his outward appearance and his inward soul appeals to you love of the poetic, or maybe you're just tired of all the men who've hurt you and want to try someone completely different. Don't over think this."

Sharwyn sighed. "Emily, you haven't been listening." Emily fiercely objected in her head, but she knew fighting the point would only further delay her sleeping. "I'm comfortable with my feelings for Daelan. I'm just not sure about his feelings for me…"

Emily rolled her eyes; she couldn't help it. "You honestly think he doesn't find you attractive, Sharwyn?" _Seriously, woman, I could be sleeping right now!_

"Of course not, Emily, I'm not an idiot! It's just… I'm a flirtatious person by nature, and Daelan's known me long enough to know that. He also knows the kind of men I normally spend time with. I… I guess I don't think that he'd take me seriously if I told him how I feel." She picked up a rock and flung it into the nearby chasm. "And why would he? I've given him no reason to think I'm anything other than a shallow, flighty fool!"

"He doesn't think that about you, Sharwyn," Emily said genuinely.

"How do you know that?" the bard asked, her voice smaller than Emily had ever heard it before.

Emily didn't feel comfortable sharing with Sharwyn that Daelan had already confided in her, so she said rather lamely, "I just know."

Now it was Sharwyn's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, wonderful, you 'just know'. Like how you 'just know' about these stupid chains we're searching for."

Emily laughed. "No, not like how I know about the chains, I can promise you that, which by the way you said I don't have to tell you about. I know about what Daelan thinks because… because of the way he looks at you. You know what you were saying before about the kindness in his eyes? Well, when he looks at you—you know, when he thinks no one's looking—his eyes get a little more… kinder? That's not the right word, is it. Umm, more radiating? No, that's not it, either… Ugh, this is why I keep Deekin around; I'm no good at this descriptive stuff. You know what I'm trying to say, though, right?"

Sharwyn nodded, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "Thank you, Emily."

"Glad I could help," Emily said as she lay back down. "Good night, Sharwyn."

"Good night," the bard said absently, already lost in planning out the perfect speech she would give Daelan to convince him of her sincerity. As she stared out unseeing into space, Deekin pulled his blanket up over his head. Taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the increased darkness, he quietly pulled out his book and quill and began to write.


	11. Part I, Ch 11: The Right Elf

**Part I—Chapter 11: The Right Elf is Hard to Find**

Emily looked closely at the man standing before her. He was very old and spoke with the timid voice of someone who had been a slave for the majority of his life. His head was bowed, but he looked up at her with pleading eyes that silently begged for her help. Her benevolent heart should be melting right about now.

But it wasn't, and Emily had no idea why not.

"I'm sorry, Shareesh, but could you please tell me what the activation stone looks like and where I can find it, again?" she asked, stalling for time until she could figure out why she was so reluctant to spring into action. "I just want to make sure I don't accidentally overlook it."

Shareesh's eyes narrowed harshly for the briefest of moments, but he proceeded to repeat his story about the activation stone that would unlock a magic portal that would allow him and his fellow slaves to escape from Undermountain. When he mentioned again the fact that Halaster hid the stone inside a djinni bottle, Deekin pulled at the tail of her cloak, just as he had the first time. Emily once again ignored him and kept her eyes fixed on Shareesh.

"If it's a matter of payment, my lady, I can give you a powerful magic item…" Tomi's ears perked up at this, and he rushed to Emily's side from his place back at the door. Shareesh glanced at the now-entranced halfling and continued, "I know the location of one of the four chains Halaster used to bind open the doors of this level. Surely such a thing would be valuable to an adventurer like yourself."

Emily crossed her arms and sighed. Whatever her misgivings about the situation, she couldn't afford to pass up that offer. "Very well, Shareesh, we have a deal. The stone in exchange for the chain."

Shareesh smiled a wide, unnaturally cat-like smile. "Thank you, my lady! Thank you for delivering us to freedom!"

He threw his arms wide and seemed about to hug her. Emily, wanting no part of that, quickly scooped Deekin up and thrust him into the man's arms. "Here, hug Deekin! He likes hugs!"

The old man looked quite disappointed to find himself embracing a kobold instead of a human woman. Emily smiled at him politely and walked off to look around the room, still trying to discover the source of her discomfort.

"Not a big fan of physical contact, are we, priestess?" asked Sharwyn with a smirk at her side.

"Not from strangers," the cleric replied. "Or from enemies…"

"Blech!" spat Deekin, catching up to them after being released from Shareesh's grasp. "Deekin not blames Boss for not hugging old man. He smells funny. Like wet laundry, maybe, or moldy cake."

"Of course he smells bad, Deekin, he's a slave!" cried Daelan indignantly. "He probably hasn't had a bath or a decent meal in who knows how long!" He frowned at Emily. "Forgive me for questioning your judgment, Emily, but I don't understand why it took you so long to agree to help him. He and his fellows obviously need our aid!"

Sharwyn jumped in before Emily had a chance to respond. "What I don't understand is why she declined to mention to the admittedly odorous man that we have already investigated the southern chambers and failed to find this djinni bottle he speaks of?"

"But Boss does finds djinni bottle!" interrupted Deekin. "Deekin sees Boss puts glowing purple bottle in her pack before we finds Shifty Halfling!"

"I knew it was glowing!" Emily said happily; at the same time, Tomi said, "Who're ya callin' Shifty Halfling, ya nosy kobold?"

Daelan turned his attention back to Deekin. "You saw her with the bottle?" he asked in disbelief. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Deekin tries, Big Half-Orc, but Boss ignores Deekin's tugging. Deekin not very strong, you knows, she probably not feels it…"

"That still doesn't explain why she didn't just give the bottle to Shareesh."

"Maybe she just don't trust 'em, Daelan," offered Tomi. "I sure don't, I already told ya that. Have ta give the girl credit, though, for holdin' out on 'em. Linu was so busy fallin' all over herself to save them all that she never even bothered ta ask about payment. I still don't trust 'em, but I'd be willin' ta give them the magic rock if it means we get our hands on that chain."

"Is that what we've sunk to, Emily, extorting helpless slaves?!" Daelan fumed, but he was startled to find that he wasn't actually fuming at anyone. The cleric was gone.

The four adventurers looked around them in confusion, wondering where she could have disappeared to. A few plaintive cries of "Boss?" from Deekin were fortunately enough to bring about her reappearance at a door in the southern wall of the room. "You called?" she asked with mild annoyance.

"Goodness, Emily, why did you run off like that?" asked Sharwyn angrily as they rushed over to her. "You gave poor Deekin such a fright!"

Emily guiltily patted Deekin on the head, but the stern look on her face remained. "I just figured since you all were much more interested in talking _about_ me than talking _to_ me that I didn't really need to be there for that conversation, so I decided to do some exploring."

The others looked a bit chastised, but Daelan tried to remain resolute. "I am sorry if you felt slighted, Emily," he said with a forced calmness, "but I really don't understand your actions here. These people are slaves. Without our help they will be trapped here for all eternity. How can you possibly question giving them the assistance they require?"

Emily smirked, not at Daelan's words but at the adoring smile on Sharwyn's face. "You're right, Sharwyn," she said, making the bard jump. "He's nobler than any human man I've ever met, too." Sharwyn blushed fiercely as Daelan looked at her with surprise. "Daelan," Emily continued, "I'll address your concerns in a moment, but first, I have to show you what I found!"

She marched back through the door. Sharwyn followed at her heels, refusing to meet Daelan's eyes. "I'll get you for that, priestess," she hissed.

"Don't you mean thank me?" Emily whispered back. Sharwyn was about to say more, but she was distracted by the sight of what Emily had found.

There was a large, intricately decorated sarcophagus up against the far wall of the room, but Sharwyn's attention was drawn to the elven priestess standing in front of it. The woman seemed lost deep in thought, and she did not notice the others enter the room.

"Linu!" Sharwyn gasped, and Linu looked up, startled and wide-eyed. Her eyes grew even wider as the bard raced over to her and embraced her tightly. "Oh… hello, dear friend," she muttered softly.

Emily hung back as the others all ran up to greet their lost friend. When she had first entered the room while the others were arguing, Linu's back had been to her. Emily had listened curiously as the elf had repeated the same words over and over to herself: "My name is Linu. My friend the halfling is named Tomi. I wish there was something I could do to help these poor slaves." Emily had returned to the other room undetected, and now she watched the reunion with unease. Something was just not right.

Linu looked as though she might be overwhelmed, sandwiched as she was between Sharwyn and Daelan, but her eyes snapped into focus when she saw Tomi. "Tomi!" she cried, pointing at the halfling. "My friend!"

"Aye, that's me, alright," said Tomi warily. He was also picking up on Linu's strange behavior. "How ya doin'?" he asked her. "Haven't taken any nasty spills lately, have ya?"

"No, of course not," Linu replied, rather sharply, Tomi thought. He took a step back, closer to the shadows.

Emily moved next to him. "Just how long have you and Linu been separated, Tomi?" she asked.

"Not long enough for her to forget what a clumsy ol' girl she is."

"Hello, Elf Lady Cleric!" Deekin said loudly, interrupting all other conversations. "You remembers Deekin, right? From the inn?"

Linu stared at him, uncomprehendingly. "You have a lute…" she said, pointing at the instrument in Deekin's hands.

"Of course Deekin does. Deekin is bard, after all."

"But you, Deekin, are a kobold…" Linu was visibly having difficulty with this concept.

"Yes, Deekin is most famous kobold bard in all of Ten Towns! You really not remembers him, Elf Lady Cleric?"

"No, I don't."

Deekin's face fell slightly. "No? Oh… Well, you gots to remembers Boss, right?" He pointed back at Emily. "Emily Emeraude? Also from the inn?"

"Oh…" The elven cleric sized the human cleric up and down. Emily tried her best to appear non-threatening, but the death grip she had on Enserric's handle didn't do much to help her cause. Regardless, Linu appeared more comfortable talking to her than to the others, for she said slowly, "Yes, Emily Emeraude. Of course I recognize you, Emily Emeraude. I just have a lot on my mind with these… these poor slaves trapped here. I wish there was something I could do to help these poor slaves…"

Emily unconsciously pulled Enserric slightly out of his sheath, and he immediately began shouting, "Outsiders! Outsider blood! ATTACK!"

Linu's eyes went wide. Emily quickly shoved the sword back away. "Sorry! Talking sword!" she apologized. "Don't mind him; he's prone to lies…" Enserric's muttered protests could be faintly heard.

Linu relaxed again. "Oh, I see. Well, as I was saying, I wish there was something I could do to help these poor slaves…"

"We spoke to their leader, Shareesh," Daelan cut in. "He seems to think there is a portal in this area they can use to escape if they could only get the activation stone…" He glared pointedly at Emily, but she was too busy watching Linu to notice.

The elven cleric clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes, yes, the activation stone! If only we had the activation stone for this portal, we could help these poor slaves! Maybe you could help get it for them, Emily Emeraude?"

"Now you wait just a bloody minute, Linu!" Tomi burst out. "Ya already told _me_ ta go get the stone. Surely ya didn't forget that, did ya?"

Linu's brow furrowed in concentration as she looked at Tomi. "No… no, I didn't forget, my friend Tomi…" Suddenly, she smiled. "Oh! You've returned, Tomi! You must have the activation stone, then, yes?"

Tomi stared uncomfortably at his boots. "Umm, no, actually, I don't…"

"Well, why don't you?!" Linu suddenly screamed. "I gave you one simple task, halfling—" She abruptly cut herself off when she noticed the others staring at her. She cleared her throat and folded her hands demurely. "I am sorry, Tomi, my friend. I did not mean to yell like that. I'm just… I just have a lot on my mind…"

"Yeah, ya mentioned that…" Tomi muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry, Linu." Sharwyn put her arm around the cleric's shoulders. "I simply can't imagine the stress you must have been under these past few days. But there's no need to worry any more. Emily found the activation stone, didn't you, Emily?"

"Ah, well…" Emily stammered, trying to think fast. Technically, she didn't have the stone itself; all she had was the djinni bottle Shareesh mentioned. But even if she did have the stone, Linu's rehearsed repetitions and uncharacteristic outbursts gave Emily pause. Unfortunately, Tomi seemed to be the only one who shared her suspicions, so she decided to continue trying to buy herself some time until she could figure out what to do. "Umm, you see, Linu, I'm not sure if I found it or not…"

"Well, pull out what you've found, Emily Emeraude!" Linu snapped impatiently.

_So much for buying time_. Emily placed her pack on the ground, knelt in front of it, and deliberately began searching through her belongings. "I know it must be in here somewhere…" she said hopefully.

For a brief moment, her eyes met Tomi's. The halfling nodded at her and silently disappeared into the shadows. Emily blinked at the place where he had been standing. _Did I just agree to something? Oh, I hope he doesn't do anything stupid…_

Her hand clasped a small, familiar object. The Relic of the Reaper. She fingered the small stone in her hand, wondering if it could help her now as it had helped her so many times before. Linu began tapping her foot impatiently, and not being able to come up with a better idea, Emily stood up and pulled the Relic out of her pack.

"Is this the stone you're looking for?" she asked, not really sure what she hoped Linu's answer would be. She held out her hand with the Relic resting on her palm. Everyone looked at it with surprise, especially Deekin. "Umm, Boss…?" he began, but Emily silenced him with a specific hand wave that the kobold had come to understand meant, "NOT NOW, DEEKIN!"

Linu reached out her hand to take the Relic, but Emily was shocked to find her grip on the stone tighten like a vise. The elf looked at her suspiciously, and Emily attempted to cover the unexpected awkward moment by shoving the Relic into the elf's face. "Can you see it better now, Linu?" she asked, rather loudly and slightly hysterically. _This was a bad idea, a very bad idea…_

Linu looked at the stone briefly, and then glared at Emily. "This is not the activation stone, Emily Emeraude," she said coldly. "Did you find anything else?"

"Sure, Linu, I've found lots of things!" Emily said, trying to fight back nervous laughter. "Can I interest you in some colored chains?" Sharwyn and Daelan were looking at her strangely. _What, Linu nearly bites Tomi's head off, and you two don't bat an eye, but when I start giggling like a maniac you're suddenly concerned?!_

Emily's mental rantings were interrupted by Tomi's sudden appearance on top of the sarcophagus. He crouched down directly behind Linu and met Emily's eyes. "Drop the rock," he mouthed silently.

_But I don't want to drop it…! Why don't I want to drop it…? _Emily stared at her hand, at the way her veins were bulging and at the strange colors her fingers were turning. She looked back at Tomi, who once again mouthed, "DROP THE ROCK!"

Emily wasn't sure what the rogue was planning, but at this point, she didn't really care. She just needed to prove to herself that she was still in control of her own limbs. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Well, I guess we won't be needing this old thing, then!" and forcefully threw the Relic at Linu's feet. She immediately felt an overwhelming urge to dive to the ground and grab it back, but steeling herself, she knelt back down behind her pack. "Let's see what else we've got in here, shall we?"

Her hands were trembling as she pulled open the flap, but the others didn't have a chance to notice. Tomi quickly stood up and shoved Linu with all his might. The elf stumbled forward, and her foot landed right on top of the Relic.

_Oh, Tomi, what have you done? _Emily began muttering a healing spell, ready to cure the wounds of the soon-to-be injured elf. Sharwyn sighed and put a hand over her eyes, not wanting to watch the spectacular fall that she knew would follow. Daelan instinctively threw his arms out, hoping to catch the cleric before she hit the ground. Deekin wondered if any of these slaves knew how to make pie.

But to everyone's surprise (except for Deekin, of course, who was not really concerned with the matter), Linu did not fall. She did not scream. She did not flail her arms about like a bird attempting to take off for the sky. Instead, she used her other leg to leap into the air, fell to the ground in a ball, and rolled away and up into a defensive position, her hands curved like the claws of a cat.

Tomi jumped down from the sarcophagus and drew his twin kukri. "That was quite impressive, Linu," he said mockingly. "Where in the hells did ya learn those moves?"

Linu's eyes narrowed in an unnatural manner, and she growled at Tomi menacingly. "Enough of these games!" she shouted as her fingernails lengthened into claws. "We will feast on your flesh and gnaw on your bones!"

"Aww. Deekin was hoping for some pie…"

* * *

"One… two… three… PUSH!"

Emily, Sharwyn, Daelan, and Tomi shoved will all their might, but the lid of the sarcophagus still wouldn't budge. They had successfully defeated the false Linu and the other Rakshasa in the room, and they were hoping that they would find the real Linu inside the sarcophagus. Or at least, they were hoping to find something that could help them defeat the twenty or so other Rakshasa trying to get through from the other room.

Deekin watched the door from his perch atop the sarcophagus lid. In a moment of brilliance, Sharwyn had shoved her two-bladed sword into the slots across the door as soon as the fake Linu began her transformation, preventing the other Rakshasa from joining the fight. Unfortunately, they were now barricaded inside with no way out and twenty angry Rakshasa trying to break down the door. "Ooo, that was a loud one, Boss!" Deekin exclaimed as the wooden door buckled menacingly inward. "Deekin thinking we not gots much time left before the scary cat peoples be joining us…"

"Ya know, we might have an easier time gettin' this lid off if the singin' lizard wasn't sittin' on top of it…" Tomi muttered softly.

Emily shot him a glare but conceded his point. "Alright, Deekin, off you go," she said and nudged the kobold gently in the back. Deekin slid off the sarcophagus with a joyful "Wheeee!" Tomi rolled his eyes and slammed his head against the tomb's side.

Sharwyn sighed at the thief. "He really isn't that bad, Tomi," she admonished him as she checked to make sure none of her nails had broken. "He grows on you after a while."

"How long of a while are we talkin' here, aye?" Tomi mournfully stared at the slab of stone in front of him and was suddenly captivated by an intricate pattern carved into the rock. "Hey, guys, I think there's some kind of lockin' mechanism on this thing!" he cried happily.

Daelan slumped to the ground. "You couldn't have found that about five minutes ago, could you, master thief?" he grumbled. Tomi stuck out his tongue absently and worked feverishly on the lock. In seconds, they heard a satisfying click.

"All done!" Tomi announced proudly and took a bow. Daelan rolled his eyes and from his seat on the floor shoved off the lid with one hand. He noticed Sharwyn smiling strangely at him as he pulled himself to his feet and joined the others looking at what was inside.

Linu La'neral lay before them, bent and squished in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position. Of course, being dead, Linu didn't notice. Daelan picked her up and stretched her out on the ground. Emily bent over the priestess's body and looked for injuries that could impede the resurrection process.

"Whatcha waitin' for, Emily?" asked Tomi impatiently. "She's not gonna start breathin' on her own."

"Hush, Tomi," Sharwyn snapped. "Don't rush the woman. She holds the life of our friend in her hands!"

BANG! Sharwyn's sword fell to the ground. The wooden door fell on top of it.

"Umm, Boss…"

"NOT NOW, DEEKIN!" Emily took a deep breath and placed both her hands firmly on the elf's chest. There wasn't any time to be cautious. _O great Lathander, please let me not mess this up…_ She opened her eyes, the spell on her lips, when she noticed the other four staring at her expectantly. "Umm, guys? The Rakshasa?"

"But Emily—" Sharwyn began.

"I'll take care of Linu, you guys take care of the monsters!"

Her companions properly motivated to action, Emily turned her attention back to the body. She couldn't resist one last quick scan, but finding no obvious cuts or bruises, she cast the spell.

Linu gasped and sat up with a start. She rubbed her head and looked at Emily in confusion. "Are you… are you real?" she asked, her voice shaky. "Or are you one of those Rakshasa in disguise?"

"Nope, the Rakshasa have given up disguises for the time being," Emily replied, pointing at the battle raging next to them.

Linu gasped again. "Oh, my! My dear, what's going on? Who are you? What—?"

"Sorry, Linu, we don't really have time for reintroductions right now," Emily interrupted as she unsheathed Enserric. "As you can see, there's a little skirmish going on here…"

"More outsiders?" cried Enserric. "This is my lucky day! Death and destruction for all!"

Linu stared at the sword, clearly wondering if she was the only one who heard that voice. "Did that sword—?"

"Yeah, it talks," Emily said quickly as she stood up. "Got some anger issues, too, but what can you do? Look, Linu, if you feel good enough to help out here, that'd be great, but don't push yourself too hard. We don't want you dying. Again." She smiled encouragingly.

Linu smiled back weakly, still too bewildered to be encouraged in the least. "Well, umm, may Sehanine be with you, dear!" Her eyes scanned the crowd as Emily charged into the fray. She settled her gaze on a familiar looking kobold. The creature had been cornered by one of those awful Rakshasa, and he looked very scared. Linu felt her heart well up with pity, and she searched her fuzzy mind for a spell that could save him.

Suddenly, the kobold opened his mouth wide, and out shot a plume of searing flame. Linu blinked. A fire-breathing kobold was simply too much for her recently resurrected brain to comprehend, and she promptly passed out.


	12. Part I, Ch 12: Hugs and Kisses

**Part I—Chapter 12: Hugs and Kisses**

Emily stared down at her reflection in the pool of water. She reached out with her finger and poked her watery self in the nose. As the ripples extended outward from where she had made contact with the water's surface, the liquid before her changed color six times: yellow, red, yellow, purple, red, green. When it settled back to a clear blue, she looked up at the door in front of her expectantly. Deekin met her gaze and pulled on the door's handle. "Nope, still locked, Boss," the kobold said sadly.

Emily closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe deeply. _This is why I hate puzzles,_ she groaned inwardly. After the battle with the Rakshasa, they had retrieved the red chain from Shareesh's corpse, and they had found a purple chain in the possession of a crazed goblin shaman with an irritating fondness for paint. Returning to this central section of the level, they had hung the chains over the pedestals of the same color, but nothing had happened. The door remained closed. Emily was certain the answer was somehow connected to this pool, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what.

"Are ya sure we ain't supposed to pull on these buggers, Em?" came Tomi's voice from behind her.

"Oh, please be careful, Tomi dear…" Linu fretted as the halfling took a running leap and grabbed the purple chain. The sound of a gong banging rang out from nowhere.

"That not sounds like a good noise, Shifty Halfling…" Deekin whispered loudly.

Tomi was about to snap something back at him, but suddenly a shivering goblin materialized on top of the purple pedestal. Everyone immediately drew their weapons, but the goblin took one look at the armed party of six and started to scream hysterically. Before anyone could move, he leaped off the pedestal and ran straight off the ledge, his screams echoing back to them as he plunged into the eternal darkness.

"Well, so much for Halaster's mighty guardians," Daelan muttered as he shouldered his double-axe.

"The poor, frightened little thing…" Linu said softly, and she looked as though she were about to cry.

"You're not seriously gonna sob over that goblin, are ya, Linu?" Tomi said in disbelief.

An argument ensued between the thief and the cleric about the sanctity of goblin life, but Emily could not hear it. She had slammed her head into the pool and was screaming at the top of her lungs under the water. She cursed Halaster for making this stupid puzzle. She cursed the goblin for being a pathetic adversary. She cursed whatever creature had come up with the idea for colored metal chains. She cursed the very existence of metal, and of water, and of color, and she cursed her lungs for not being able to hold enough air for her to continue her underwater cursing.

With a desperate gasp, she pulled her head out of the pool and began shaking her head to dry off. It took her a few moments to realize that there were no curls whipping her face, and she stopped when she suddenly remembered that her long red hair was gone. Deekin may have only burned off the hair around her face back in the ogre mage's lair, but while battling the goblin horde he had finished the job by accidentally hitting her square in the back while trying to torch an enemy over her shoulder. Linu had quickly patted her down and healed her singed skin, but her hair was burned beyond hope of saving. Sharwyn had tried her best to even it out, but Emily could tell from the way the bard kept sighing that they were fighting a losing battle. Through gritted teeth, she had told Sharwyn to just chop it all off, but sometimes she couldn't help imaging that it was still there. Now she reached up and touched the few remaining curls plastered tightly to her head and tried her hardest not to sniffle.

She met Deekin's eyes, and the kobold grimaced as he saw his boss's hand forlornly caressing her head. Before he could start another round of apologies, Emily quickly turned away, but what she saw did little to make her feel better. Daelan had noticed a glob of the goblin's gooey glowing paint stuck in Sharwyn's hair, and he was attempting to remove it for her. Emily wasn't sure what she was more jealous of at the moment: Sharwyn's beautiful, lustrous waves or the way Daelan's large hands moved so tenderly through them. Not that she had any feelings for Daelan herself, but it had just been so long since any man had looked at her that way. Considering the sorry state of her physical appearance, Emily doubted now whether any man was likely to in the near future. _Oh, hells, this adventure was supposed to distract me from my pathetic love life, not add to my problems! _Sharwyn smiled sweetly up at Daelan, causing the barbarian to blush, and it was all so adorable that Emily contemplated shoving her head back underwater so no one could see her scowl.

This proved to be unnecessary as Sharwyn was not the only one with paint problems. Finished with her argument with Tomi, Linu had been trying to flick a piece of dried goo off of her lower back, but her constant twisting to reach it had brought her perilously close to the edge. Her next step was not entirely on solid ground, and as she screamed she reached up and grabbed the yellow chain to stop her fall. Emily half-heartedly raised Enserric, preparing for another goblin "attack", but instead of the loud gong they heard before, a bell chimed softly in the distance.

"Hey, that sounds like a good noise!" Deekin cried. "Good job, Elf Cleric Lady!"

Linu smiled at him weakly as she dangled from the chain. "Ha ha, thank you, Deekin, I do try. Now if someone could please just help me down…"

As Daelan walked over to bring the elf back to solid ground, leaving a pouting Sharwyn behind, Emily stared back down at the pool of water. "Yellow, red, yellow…" she muttered to herself, and a smile slowly spread across her face. "Hey, everyone, I think I've solved it! I need each of you to stand next to one of the chains. Deekin, you're going to need to stand on Tomi's shoulders to reach it, so head over to him. Now, when I call out the color—"

"Hang on just a bloody minute!" Tomi interrupted. "Why does the kobold have to stand on me shoulders? I can reach it by meself, ya just saw me do it!"

Emily frowned impatiently. Now that she had finally solved the puzzle, she wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. "I'm not taking any chances of you missing the chain and flying into the abyss. Help Deekin up, or I'll do it for you."

She glared at him, or rather, Tomi assumed she was glaring at him; her eyebrows still hadn't grown back in, so it was a little hard to tell for sure. Regardless, he sighed and cradled his hands for Deekin to step into. "Your feet better not smell, kobold. I'm liable ta pass out from the stench and send ya plugin' down, down, down…"

"Boss!" Deekin wailed. "Shifty Halfling beings mean to little Deekin!"

"That's enough, you two," Emily scolded. "Now, is everyone ready? I'm going to call out the names of the colors, and when you hear me say the color of your chain, pull on it. Got it?"

The others offered their assent, and Emily once again poked her own nose. The color of the water changed just as it had before, and after each chain was pulled, the soft bell rang out. As Sharwyn let go of the green chain, ending the sequence, the ancient door slowly creaked open, and a screaming flesh golem barreled out towards them.

Emily pulled out her sword, but she kept it down at her side. The golem appeared to be smiling in spite of the crazed look in his eyes, or perhaps that was just the strange stitching pattern that held him together. Before she could make up her mind about whether the creature was going to attack her or not, the golem skidded to a stop in front of the pool and raised a shaking arm, finger pointed straight at her. "How did you open them doors?" he yelled.

Emily stood up straight and beamed at the golem. "I solved the puzzle!" she said, with a great deal more pride in her voice than the situation warranted.

Tomi rolled his eyes. "It was my idea ta pull the chains in the first place…" he muttered. Deekin, still standing on his shoulders, reached down and pulled out one of the hairs on the halfling's head. Tomi yelped, and Deekin hissed, "Don't say bad things about Boss, Shifty Halfling. Deekin always be listening…"

The golem was staring at Emily in disbelief. "But, but, Halaster always said there weren't no way to open them once the chains was gone," he whined.

Emily's smile faltered. It wasn't very satisfying to be boasting of her accomplishments to someone who was so unobservant. "Umm, we found the four chains. See?" she said, waving her arm at the chains dangling above them.

The golem spun around, his mouth hanging precariously open. "Wow… You really did! You found the chains, and you thumped them drow, too, I bet!" Emily nodded as the golem turned to smile at her once more. "Oh boy, that'll learn them. Halaster's gonna be so proud of you!" He jumped for joy, raced around the pool of water, and wrapped Emily in a surprisingly tight hug. The cleric's brown eyes went wide as saucers, but since her arms were pinned to her sides there was little she could do as Linu "awwed" sweetly, Sharwyn snickered gleefully, and the other three stared at her in disbelief.

After what seemed like an eternity to Emily, Daelan cleared his throat and asked, "So, golem, you know Halaster quite well, do you?"

The golem spun around to face the barbarian, swinging Emily right along with him. "Of course, I know him!" he said happily. "He made me, after all. At least, he told me that before the drow captured him. And I got no reason to think he's lying, seeing as how he's my dad and all."

Tomi's eyebrows shot up. "Halaster's your pop, eh? Who was your mum, then?"

"Don't provoke him, Tomi," Daelan murmured. "Not while he has Emily in a death grip."

Indeed, poor Emily could have been dead already for all of the effort she made to engage in the conversation. As soon as the golem's bony arms had wrapped around her, she had frozen as still as if she had been hit by a petrification spell. Her eyes stared blankly out in front of her as the golem whirled her around again to look at Tomi. "I never met my mom, no siree, but Halaster's definitely my dad. Told me he sewed me together himself. I help him run this place. You know, feed the slaves, put the mummies back in their sarcophagi… Sometimes, Dad and I even play pin the tail on the goblin! It's so much fun!"

"Well, that does sound exciting, dear," said Linu. "I wonder, does your father have any particular animosity toward goblins?"

"I'm not sure," said the golem as he twirled to face the elf. Emily's body was now practically horizontal in his arms, stiff as a board. "They seemed to like us, though. Everyone used to be real nice to me. They used to smile and nod and say, "Hello, Berger!"

"Hellos, Berger!" said Deekin with a smile and a nod. "Umm, does Berger thinks he could put Boss down nows? She nots smiling anymore, and she normally does that a lot."

"Oh, sorry!" cried Berger, and he dropped Emily to the floor. She made no attempt to move immediately, but at least she was blinking. "Anyway," the golem continued, "what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Now things ain't so nice. Ever since Dad got snatched up, the others don't take such a shine to me. Those dark elves even stole Dad's djinni lamp! And they're always talking behind my back. I can't understand their language, but I can tell."

Berger nodded solemnly at the group. Deekin nodded solemnly back. The others simply stared until Sharwyn finally asked, "So, Berger, do you know who snatched up your father?"

The smiling golem frowned as much as his stitching would allow. "I sure do! It was them dark skinned, pointy-eared, silver-haired, no good drow!"

"Oh, that's terrible!" cried Linu. "What are we going to do if they've killed him?" she asked the others. They all looked at each other with worried expressions, except for Emily who was still in a state of shock after her golem embrace. If Halaster had not actually been working with the drow as Durnan had originally suspected, they had hoped to recruit him as an ally to their cause. The thought that he might be dead put a serious damper on their plans.

Thankfully, they need not have been so concerned, for Berger quickly calmed their fears. "Oh, no, no, they can't kill Dad. If they do, Undermountain will come crashing down around their ears! CRASH! BANG! BOOM! You see? So they're definitely keeping him alive. And when he gets out, he's going to be _mad!_"

"Huzzah!" Deekin cried. "If Crazy Mage still be alive, Boss can comes up with a plan to save him! Boss is good at making plans, right, Boss?"

Emily had finally sat up, though she was still visibly out of sorts. She stared uncomprehendingly at Deekin for a moment as his words sunk in. "Oh, sure, of course, don't worry, Sir Golem!" she said finally. "We'll find a way to free your dad, I promise."

"Yippee!" Berger reached down and lifted Emily back up into another hug. "Oh, I just know you'll do it, too! I can feel it!" he said as he bounced up and down in happiness. "You're going to set Dad free, and everything will be like before again! Monsters will stay in Undermountain, drow will go back to the Underdark, and Berger can play pin the tail on the goblin again! Yippee!"

"Yes, Berger, we'll be happy to help you, but could you please let go of our leader?" asked Sharwyn with a smirk. "I'm worried she might pass out if you don't."

"Oh, sorry again!" Berger stopped hopping and released the cleric, who quickly grabbed the edges of the pool to steady herself. She gave Sharwyn a grateful glance and said, "Yes, Berger, we will help you. Do you happen to know where your dad is being held?"

The golem put a hand to his chin. "Umm, Dad's down on the lower level. Somewhere. I really don't know where. You see, I've been spending most of my time running away from the drow, and there's _lots_ of drow on the lower level. You all be careful down there!"

With a smile and a nod, and one last hug for Emily, Berger bid them farewell. They made their way through the doors and began their descent into Undermountain's depths. Emily still seemed a little unsure of her footing, and she stumbled, nearly knocking Deekin over. "Is you okay, Boss?" the kobold asked worriedly.

"She's fine, Deekin," answered Tomi on her behalf. "She's just missin' her boyfriend already."

"Shut up, Tomi," Emily snapped. "You don't know what it's like, being hugged by a flesh golem." She shivered at the memory of the smell of his stale skin and the feel of it on her cheek. "Next time we meet a golem, I'll let you give him a hug instead."

"Ooo, Boss has a love interest?" Deekin dived into his pack. "Deekin needs to write this down for his book. How does you spell Berger, anyway?"

"Deekin, I swear to the gods, if you write one sentence in that book about me being in love with a golem, there will be hell to pay!"

"Emily, dear, I'm sure the kobold didn't mean anything by it," Linu jumped in. "There's no need to be so harsh with him."

"That's okay, Elf Cleric Lady," said Deekin with a smile. "Deekin knows Boss just jokings about the hell stuff. Besides, she already says she'd much rather be marrying a goat."

This statement provoked much confusion among the party. Rather than make matters worse by attempting to explain the origin of Deekin's misunderstanding, Emily busied herself with watching her boots as she stepped downward. _Well, wasn't I just complaining about my romantic situation? Now I have two lovers: a golem and a goat! _She couldn't stop herself from smiling at the absurdity of it all. _Maybe they'll fight a duel over me, wouldn't that be a sight? _Laughing softly at the image in her head, she led the way down to Halaster's prison in much happier spirits than she had been in days.

* * *

The air in the cavern was still. Shadows hugged the walls, and the water in the natural pools hardly moved. The only sound that could be heard was the faint scuffling of a spider crawling over the tiny rocks that littered the ground.

Suddenly a ball of fire shot out from one of the walls, incinerating the poor insect with a loud boom and scorching the nearby earth. The flames quickly faded, and now there was no sound in the chamber at all. Just the way Nathyrra liked it.

The drow woman breathed in softly as her eyes readjusted to the pervading gloom. She smirked as she discerned an eight-legged outline in the dust. The common picture of an assassin is of a person who acts swiftly, but most storytellers fail to mention that those few swift acts are often surrounded by protracted periods of slow, dull waiting. Nathyrra was bored, and besides, what was the point of being a mage when she so rarely got to show off her flashy, noisy spells? She hadn't been told when exactly this savior was supposed to appear, and she had been waiting such a long time…

Voices, coming from the incline that led to the level above. Nathyrra's hand tightened around the handle of her rapier, and she forced herself to let go. "No weapons," the Seer had said. "Show her that you mean her no harm." Still, her body tensed, and she felt her fingernails digging deeply into the palms of her dark-skinned hands as she waited for the talkative group to descend.

The first figure to appear was a human woman, smiling happily for reasons unknown. Nathyrra shook her head. _No one smiles in Undermountain unless they're insane. Besides, this woman doesn't appear to have any hair at all, and the Seer was very specific in her description…_

A small kobold followed the hairless woman into the chamber. It was looking down at something in its hands. As the creature drew closer, Nathyrra was shocked to see that it was apparently reading a book. It raised its arm and nibbled absently on a quill feather, nearly tripping over a rock in its path. The smiling woman caught his fall with a practiced manner, and the kobold looked up at her gratefully. "Thanks, Boss," it said in a squeaky voice. "Deekin gets too caught up in editing sometimes."

"Any time, little buddy," replied the abnormally cheerful woman. Nathyrra shook her head in the shadows. Although she had not spent much time on the surface, she was fairly certain that humans and kobolds did not typically socialize with each other. _Very, very odd…_

The loud voice she had heard earlier was coming closer. The assassin focused on its owner as he emerged from the tunnel: a short, cocky-looking halfling following tight on the heels of a frustrated elven woman. "Come on, Linu, it's all in fun," he whined. "Just answer the question, won't ya?"

The elf sighed. "Tomi, dear, it's such a ridiculous question that I wouldn't even know where to begin formulating a response!"

"That's kinda the point, though, innit?" the halfling insisted. "If there was a massive pandemic on Toril, and the only creatures left were you, a flesh golem, and a goat, which one would ya choose to repopulate the Prime with?"

Linu spun around to face her tormentor. Nathyrra observed how curly her hair was, but it was definitely brown, not red. Besides, the Seer had seemed sure the woman was a human. The elf opened her mouth to speak, but her words were cut off by an imposing half-orc emerging from the darkness. "Don't bother fighting him, Linu," he said in a voice Nathyrra never expected to hear come out of an orc's mouth. "It's not worth it. Just pick one and be done with it."

Linu bit her lip and held the half-orc's gaze for a moment before throwing her arms up in the air. This gesture very nearly caused the poor woman to fall backwards over the tiny ledge she was standing on, leading Nathyrra to ponder how on earth she had managed to make it this far into Undermountain alive. "Fine, Tomi," she snapped, though Nathyrra had to admit she snapped very politely. "I choose the golem."

The mischievous halfling appeared to be quite pleased with himself, but the laughter Nathyrra heard was not his. It was a woman's voice, the most musical voice she had ever heard. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to commit the beautiful melody to memory, and when she opened them again, a human woman with gorgeous dark red hair stood at the top of the hill. She beamed at her companions and said, "Am I really the only one who picked the goat?" She laughed again, and Nathyrra smiled, more charmed than she cared to admit. The woman's hair wasn't exactly what Nathyrra would call curly, but it was definitely wavy, and that was close enough. _There she is. Our savior… _Taking a deep breath, Nathyrra stepped into the light, hands held high.

The kobold immediately screamed, "Looks, Boss, there be drow lady!" and pulled out a lute, clutching it tightly. The odd woman with the head scarf looked at her curiously, but she did not reach for her sword. The others, however, immediately drew their weapons. Nathyrra cautiously took a step back and directed her words to the lovely woman now aiming an arrow at her head. "Greetings, adventurers. Please, lower your weapons. I may be drow, but I assure you I am not after your blood. Just listen to what I have to say, my lady, before you act."

The other woman looked surprised at being addressed in such a manner, and she lowered her weapon the tiniest bit. "Speak quickly, then, drow," she said warily. "What is it that you want with us?"

Nathyrra let out her breath and felt her muscles relax. "My name is Nathyrra, and my friends and I mean you no harm. In fact, my Lady Emeraude, we want to help you—"

"Hang on a second," interrupted the hairless woman. Nathyrra turned to face her, scowling at the woman's rudeness. "I don't mean to interrupt," she continued, looking slightly chastised, "but I was confused as to whom you were speaking to just now."

Nathyrra's scowl deepened. "I was speaking to Lady Emily Emeraude, obviously." She turned back to Lady Emeraude, only to find that Lady Emeraude was looking quite as confused as the hairless woman. Nathyrra felt a sudden tightness in her throat and gulped. "You _are_ the one they call Emily Emeraude, are you not?" she asked with considerably less confidence than before.

"No," replied woman in her beautiful voice, "I am the one they call Sharwyn, bard of Neverwinter. Emily Emeraude is the one over there with the scarf on her head."

Nathyrra tried to hide her disappointment as she faced the real Emily Emeraude once more. That Sharwyn woman had such a confidence about her. She could command attention with a single movement, and her voice would no doubt inspire many a soldier to do battle without question. She seemed a born leader, while this one… This one was smiling at her eagerly and waving somewhat frantically. She was much younger than Nathyrra had first though, hardly more than a girl to her elven eyes, and she appeared much too welcoming and much too naïve. _The Underdark will eat this girl alive. No, there must be some mistake. _"I don't mean to be difficult, as I'm sure you both do indeed know who you are, but I was under the impression that Emily Emeraude had curly red hair…"

"Boss does have curly red hairs," the kobold piped up. "Umm, but she has more of them earliers, before Deekin burns them off with his flaming breath of death. Shows the drow lady, Boss!" Emily turned around, and Nathyrra saw, much to her dismay, that there were definitely curls on the girl's head and that they were definitely red. "I stand corrected, Emily Emeraude," she said quietly.

Emily turned back around, her smile still on her face. "That's alright, Miss Nathyrra," she said. "I'm just flattered that you got my hair color right. Most people are convinced that I'm a natural blond…" The kobold shuffled his feet uncomfortably as the girl glared at him.

"How did ya know what the color of her hair was anyway, huh?" asked the halfling. He was watching Nathyrra with the suspicious eyes of someone who did suspicious things for a living. Nathyrra met his gaze evenly. She dared not tell them the truth about the Seer's visions yet; the Seer may have complete faith in her savior, but she had said nothing about any companions. Nathyrra was not yet prepared to trust them, especially since it was clear that not all of them trusted her. Thankfully, she was practiced at the art of deception, and this lie was a minor one at best. "Her reputation precedes her. She's something of a legend among my people, and the bards often sing of her… beauty."

She may have faltered on the last word, but Emily was clearly too excited to notice. "I'm a legend among the drow? Wow, Deekin, I can't believe they have copies of your book down in the Underdark! And since my hair's actually red and not blond, they must have been first editions or something, right?"

"Umm, rights, Boss, maybe…" murmured Deekin. The kobold was now looking at Nathyrra with suspicion, leading her to wonder what she could have said that triggered his unease. Her lie had seemed innocent enough. At least the halfling was appeased, though she preferred his look of distrust to his look of leering.

Someone cleared her throat behind her, and Nathyrra saw the elf Linu step forward uncomfortably. "Pardon me, my dear, I do hope I'm not sounding ignorant, but I was under the impression that the drow cared little for tales from the surface. Especially tales about virtuous heroes…"

Nathyrra cringed. She knew this attitude was to be expected, especially from her do-gooder surface cousins, but it still gnawed at her every time someone assumed that she was a selfish, evil witch motivated only by personal ambition. After all, that description would have fit her quite well not too long ago… She summoned her inner reserve of calm and said, "You are correct that most drow have no respect for a hero like Emily, but my people are not like most drow. We are different. We are… rebels, in a sense."

Linu looked as though she wanted to believe her, but her face betrayed her uncertainty. Nathyrra wondered if any of these people would be willing to trust her, and she was surprised to find the half-orc smiling sadly at her. "I know what it is to be judged by your race and not your character, my lady. If you are truly of a noble heart, we would be most willing to help you." He bowed slightly, and Sharwyn looked at him with an expression that was simultaneously surprised, hurt, and angry. When she returned her gaze to Nathyrra, all that was left was the anger. As her brown eyes bored holes into Nathyrra's chest, the drow wondered again why the Seer had not chosen this fearsome woman to be their savior. She reflected that they had plenty of fearsome warriors in their ranks already. Perhaps what Lith My'athar needed was someone welcoming and naïve after all… Well, hopefully only a little naïve.

"Thank you for your offer, good sir, but I'm actually here to help_ you_. We share a common goal, you see. We want to see Halaster freed and the Valsharess's forces stopped as much as you do."

"The Valsharess?" Emily asked sharply. The girl's smile was gone now, and her manner grew instantly more serious. "Who is that?"

"The Valsharess is the ruler of House Kilath," Nathyrra replied. "It is her forces that have attacked Waterdeep and captured Halaster."

Emily's eyes grew wide. "She must be very powerful if she was able to capture one of the strongest archmages in the realms."

It was clear the girl was afraid, but Nathyrra took this as a positive sign. _At least she's not foolish enough to ignore a real threat_. "She is powerful, Emily, but not invincible. Some of us in the Underdark oppose her, and we will do whatever we can to break her power."

Emily smiled again, but her expression was not as carefree as it had been before. "Well, it is good to know we have allies in this fight. Welcome to our little group, Nathyrra."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Emily?" Sharwyn cut in quickly. "I mean, we're actually quite a large group already. We don't really need anyone else…" She narrowed her eyes at Nathyrra, who responded by smiling at the half-orc warrior. "Although I'm sure your company would be quite pleasant," the dark elf said smoothly, "my purpose here is to provide you with information, nothing more."

"Information about the Valsharess?" asked Emily anxiously.

"No, she is not of immediate concern at the moment." Nathyrra had to wonder at Emily's persistent curiosity about the drow matron. _Perhaps she is not as naive about drow politics as I thought. _"What I can tell you is where you can find Halaster." She described the path to Halaster's prison and the war party guarding him, all the while marveling at the kobold taking notes. When she mentioned the enslaved formian colony to the southwest, he looked up eagerly. "Ooo, Deekin remembers ant peoples from Netherese ruins! They was very quiet, wasn't they, Boss?"

Emily smiled at him. "Yes, I remember them, Deekin, though the queen's voice was pretty loud inside my head, I can assure you. What interest could the Valsharess have with them, though?"

"She's forcing the formians to dig tunnels through Undermountian," Nathyrra replied, "making it easier for her minions to move about the dungeon and reach the surface. If you could free their queen—"

"The colony would be in my debt," Emily finished. "You've brought us more allies than just yourself, Nathyrra, unusual though they may be. Then again, unusual allies are actually pretty usual for me," she said with a fond glance at Deekin. "Thank you."

Nathyrra returned her savior's smile. Despite her initial misgivings, the girl had a calm, self-assured air about her that made Nathyrra think she might be able to lead their army after all. At least she wasn't blinded by prejudice, jealousy, or lust like some of her companions… "You're very welcome, Emily," she said. "I must take my leave of you now. Goodbye and good luck. Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

"Goodbye, Nathyrra," Emily replied with a sly smirk. "I look forward to our next meeting."

_She may be young, but she's no fool._ Nathyrra looked around the company once more, making sure to give the half-orc an extra sweet smile. Seeing the barely contained fury on the beautiful redhead's face, she chuckled softly as she disappeared back into the shadows.

* * *

Emily peered closely into the darkness, but she could see no sign of the mysterious dark elf who had been standing in front of her only a moment before. Looking down at her side, she could see that Deekin and Tomi were equally impressed. "Shifty Halfling could learns a few things about sneakiness from Drow Lady, maybe," the kobold commented. Tomi, catching Emily's eye, chose to mutter his curses under his breath rather than direct them at his scaly companion. Satisfied that the rogue was behaving himself, Emily said to the group at large, "Southwest it is, then. We've got some formians to rescue!"

"Emily, dear, are you sure we can trust this woman?" Linu asked hesitantly. "I mean, she seemed very pleasant, but she could be setting us up for a trap. She is a drow, after all…"

"Well, she did tell us the formian queen is well guarded, so we shouldn't be surprised to find enemies there," Emily reasoned. "Besides, she gave us a lot of information about Halaster and this Valsharess woman. If she and her rebel friends are the enemy of our enemy, I'd say that makes her our friend."

"But we haven't actually seen any of her friends, have we, dear? We have only her word that this group of rebels even exists, or that there's a Valsharess for them to rebel against. This just seems a little suspicious to me, that's all."

Emily would have been inclined to agree with Linu had it not been for Nathyrra's mention of the Valsharess. For Emily knew with certainty that the Valsharess existed, and moreover, that this powerful woman wanted her dead. Whether Nathyrra was truly a friend or foe Emily didn't know, but the dark elf was her only link to the Valsharess besides her vision-dream, and Emily was not about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers. Before she could say anything, however, Daelan spoke up. "How can you be so judgmental, Linu?" he asked. "If this woman was a surface elf like you, you wouldn't doubt her for a moment!"

"That's true, Daelan," Linu said, blushing slightly, "and if you had been brought up as I had, hearing nothing but tales of how vicious, heartless, and cruel the drow are, you would feel as I do. This one may be different, and if she is I commend her for transcending the evil nature of her race, but I simply find it hard to believe that this is so."

"Did you have such doubts about me when you first met me?"

Linu was mercifully spared from having to answer by Sharwyn's interruption. "Don't mind him, Linu," the bard said bitterly. "If he wasn't so infatuated with her, he would see that your concerns are perfectly valid."

"Infatuated?" the barbarian asked, turning to Sharwyn in surprise.

"There's no need to deny it, mate," Tomi said with a conspiratorial pat on the half-orc's back. "That dark elf is quite a looker, she is."

Daelan was flustered by the sudden turn this conversation had taken, and Tomi did not help matters by winking at him. "Alright," he said, "I would be lying if I said I did not think she was beautiful, but I don't see why that means—"

"So you do think she's beautiful!" Sharwyn snapped. "I should have known you'd be no different." She marched up to him angrily. "And don't pretend you didn't notice the flirty glances she gave you!" Daelan tried to protest, but Sharwyn wasn't about to give him a chance. "Well, that's fine with me," she hissed, her face inches from his. "You can have your pretty little dark elf. Just don't expect me to be waiting for you with open arms when she grows tired of you. I promise you this, Daelan Red Tiger, you will NEVER be kissed like this again!" And with that pronouncement, she grabbed the collar of his armor and gave him the angriest, most passionate kiss Emily had ever seen. Linu gasped and put a hand to her mouth, while Tomi let out a low whistle. Deekin dropped his quill, but he quickly picked it up again and began writing as fast as he could.

Satisfied that she'd made her point, Sharwyn shoved a thoroughly confused Daelan away from her and drew her two-bladed sword. "To arms, everyone!" she cried hysterically. "We have some ant people to slay!" She clutched her sword tightly and raced for the tunnel to the south.

Emily was too stunned by her sudden departure to immediately process the bard's words, but once she had, her eyes widened in alarm. "Sharwyn, wait!" she yelled, pulling out Enserric as she raced after her friend. "We're supposed to save the ant people, not kill them!"

"Well, there better be a lot of drow guards, then," Sharwyn shouted over her shoulder, "because blast it to the hells, I'm going to kill something today!"

As the two women disappeared into the darkness, Deekin and Linu grabbed their weapons and fell into pursuit. Tomi noticed that Daelan wasn't moving. Sensing the halfling's gaze, Daelan murmured, "I don't understand, Tomi. I just… I don't understand."

"I'll explain it to ya later, mate," Tomi said with a grin. "Let's go make sure your impulsive little lass doesn't get herself killed first, aye?" Daelan nodded weakly, drew his double-axe, and followed Tomi into the unknown.


End file.
